Fields of Gold
by Calla Mae
Summary: A chance meeting in an inn; him in need of company, her in need of excitement. Will her love warm the ice that is his heart, or will his love destroy her? What happens when the quest to retake his home is formed and he leaves her; would she wait for him, would he want her to?
1. I'd Like to Hold You Close

Thorin sat heavily on the bench, his legs aching for rest after walking so far. He nodded his thanks to the aging innkeeper when she set down a mug and plate of food in front of him. There were more foods from the ground than he would have liked but after months of meager meals as he traveled he was glad for food of any sort.

"Set that in the back," he heard the graying innkeeper say softly before the sound of footfalls on wood met his ears.

It had been over a hundred years before he was able to spend more than a moment not listening for sounds of danger; the attack on his home proving nowhere was ever safe. He chewed lazily as he listened to the men around him talking quietly, many stealing glances at him, and the sounds of the woman bustling about as she served the patrons.

"Would you like anything more?" a soft voice asked coming to stand behind him and upon looking up he was met with the face of a young woman.

"More ale" he answered, his eyes following her as she refilled his mug before bringing it back.

"Is there anything else?" she asked politely, as was expected.

He kept his eyes on hers as he lifted his cup to his lips and drank; it had been a long while since he had been with a woman, and though she was young her face was sweet. "Is that an offer?" he asked, his voice deep and gruff to even his own ears.

Her eyes widened slightly and a blush bloomed on her cheeks. "No," she whispered shaking her head before bidding him a good night and moving to other patrons. He smirked at the small blush that remained on her cheeks, often catching his eye as she looked about the room. His gaze was heavy on her, watching her long after he had finished his meal.

"You would do best to leave to your bed," the aged woman said taking his clean plate. "That one has seen too few years for one such as yourself."

"One such as what?" he demanded knowing how those who were not dwarves looked down on them as lesser beings, as though their short bodies were not the only things they lacked. Men kept their wives and daughters hidden on the chance a dwarf would rape her and steal her away, thinking dwarves were rough savages.

"You cannot be less than a century," she said looking at the gray strands in his hair. "She is far too young for a man, or dwarf, who has seen so much. You would do best to stay clear of my daughter," she said with a kind warning, and he looked from her lined face to the young woman's to see that they bore a resemblance he should have noticed. He stayed minutes longer watching the young woman, seeing the flames of the candles licking her fair hair and her pale face. He did not think she was more than twenty and realized her mother was right, she was too young.

"Would you like more ale?" she asked seeing he was still there. She blinked under his gaze, waiting for the answer he still did not have.

"No," he answered shortly, standing to leave and seeing his nose was level with her shoulder. He stared up at her seeing her youth in her innocent face, her dark blue eyes easy to read with his own colder ones. He went to his room, his body relieved at laying on the straw bed rather than the ground, and he fell almost instantly to sleep; the last thought he remembered was of a pretty face on a girl too young.

* * *

_So this is an idea that's been running around in my head of Thorin being in love (at least as much as he's capable). This will stay from his point of view for a while before going into hers. I haven't fully decided how serious I am about this but I cannot get this idea out of my head, so if you're interested please let me know and I'll continue it._


	2. Make You Feel Safe

_Thank you all so much for reviewing and following and favoriting already, it truly means a lot to me. To the two guests who reviewed, thank you very much I'm glad you're interested._

* * *

He woke just after dawn, having slept comfortably through the night for the first time in months, no longer sleeping on the ground in the wild. He was not surprised to find the inn's tavern empty at so early an hour and so he sat at a bench. Not long after he heard the door open and then a loud scratching followed by soft footsteps. Upon turning toward the noise he saw the young woman dragging a large sack towards the back.

"Do you need help?" he asked seeing from her startled eyes that she had not known anyone was awake.

"I could not ask that of you," she said softly before resuming her efforts to pull the bundle to the others.

After she had gone to the back he stood and walked to the door she had entered from, seeing three more sacks at the step. He lifted the sack, seeing it was filled with potatoes and carrots and lettuce and other vegetables he did not like enough to know, and moved slowly up the steps back inside.

"You did not have to do that," she said when he set the large bag beside the others in the back.

He noted that she had been setting out food to make him breakfast, his stomach clenching at the want for something to eat. "We'll finish the last two then you can make my food," he said watching a flash of irritation in her eyes from his order before she walked past him. He smirked before following, watching as she bent to grab the top of a sack before pulling it up the steps. He was impressed by her strength, though it was small, knowing the bundles of food to be heavy. He grabbed the last sack and walked to the back, passing her as she continued to drag hers, and set his with the others.

"Thank you," she said breathing heavily, and he looked to see she had taken the bag full of only potatoes which was the heaviest.

"I could have carried that one," he said looking up at her, seeing her chest rise and fall with deep breaths.

"You have paid to stay here, you did not have to help," she answered quietly before moving towards the stove. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Do you normally let your patrons chose their meals?" he asked watching her.

"No," she answered honestly, a small smile curling the corners of her lips, "though they do not normally offer their help. Now, what would you like?"

His mouth quirked in a half smile before he answered; "I'd have an omelet." He watched as she gathered a pan, eggs, cheese, ham, and milk. "May I have your name?" he asked stilling her movements. She turned her head towards him with her brows raised. "I believe I have earned it." He saw the uncertainty in her eyes before she turned away. He leaned against the wall and watched as she prepared his breakfast, the smell sharp in his empty stomach, the only sound in the room coming from the slicing of her knife and the sizzle from the pan. He sat at the table she placed his plate at and began shovelling his food in his mouth, half of the omelet already eaten before she returned with a cup of water. He looked up at her when she continued to stand beside him, seeing that she was wringing her hands and looking away from him.

"Lily," she said faintly.

"I beg your pardon," he said after swallowing, having not fully heard her.

"My name is Lily," she said louder. "May I have your name?"

He smiled at her before taking a drink. "You haven't earned it."

Her brows rose in surprise before he saw amusement twitch on her mouth. "How would I go about earning your name?"

He thought a moment, enjoying the way she did not acknowledge who he was for she did not know he was a king in exile. Staring up at her sweet face a thought of what he wanted from her crossed his mind, and she saw it in the darkening of his eyes.

"My answer is still no," she said more firmly than the night before though her cheeks still pinkened slightly. She gave him a small smile before leaving to serve other guests who had woken.

His eyes followed her seeing her smile as she greeted the few who had come in before going to the back to prepare the day's first meal for them. He walked to the front of the inn where he had paid for his room for the night and found her mother.

"Are you leaving so soon?" she asked placing the clean pile of linens down.

"I was hoping to stay another night," he said before paying for his room. She bid him a good day and he left the inn to walk through the town, thinking of the pretty young woman who's name was that of a flower wondering if he could change her answer to yes – wanting nothing more than to have her before he returned to the Blue Mountains.


	3. Not So Afraid of Yourself

_Mya: thank you, I'm glad you think so. _

_Renee: I was so happy to get your review. It is very different than my other Thorin story, at least he is different; he's a bit rougher and possible darker. I can't say for certain that this will be a happier story but it will have a completely different ending than my other story. _

* * *

He woke early the next morning and went to the dining hall seeing the innkeeper rather than her daughter.

"Oh," she said startled at his being there, "not many wake so soon after dawn. Though I could start on your meal early if you like," she said pleasantly and went to the kitchen after he nodded.  
He kept an eye and ear out for Lily while he ate, never once seeing her. The sky was still tinted pink from the rising sun when he left the inn for the day, wondering if he would pay for another night. Most were still sleeping so early in the morning, the song of birds being the only sound to reach his ears. And so when he heard a loud thump from behind the inn he followed it, hearing it twice more before he found its source.  
He stood silently as he watched Lily grab another piece of wood before bringing the ax down, splitting it into two uneven pieces. Her hair was in a single braid that hung on her shoulder, the rising sun licking its golden strands. "You are doing it wrong," he said taking a few steps closer, watching as she turned her head towards him.  
"Good morning to you as well," she said coyly as she brushed the loose hair out of her face.

"Good morning Lily," he said, greeting her as he should have, her name sweet on his tongue. "You are doing it wrong."

She looked at the small pile of wood she had cut before looking back at him, her brows furrowed. "How so?"

"To be frank," he said coming to stand beside her, "you're not strong enough." He grabbed the ax in her hand and he stared hard at her.

"You are a guest, you do not have to help me," she said, much like she had the morning previous.  
"You need it," he insisted, and after a few moments to which she stared searchingly at him she finally released the ax. He placed a block of wood on the tree stump she had been using and brought the ax down, splitting the wood into two even pieces. "Your aim was off too," he said looking up to see her staring at the wood he'd chopped.

She turned her eyes to his, her brows knitted as she looked at him unhappily. "Are you planning to teach me how to properly chop wood or did you just want to tell me I was doing it wrong?" she asked and he smirked.  
"Go get something to carry this," he ordered causing her eyes to widen. He gazed at her as she stalked off irritated and he turned back to the pile of wood before grabbing another piece. She came back a few minutes later with a wheelbarrow and she stooped low to gather the chopped wood before rolling it towards the stack of wood against the wall of the inn. He looked up occasionally to see she was placing it on the stack. After the barrow was empty she would return to collect what he had done while she had been stacking the pieces.

He raised the ax before bringing it down, it now being around midmorning, and looked to see he had done half of the pile. He flicked the hair out of his face before wiping a hand across his brow to rid it of sweat. He looked towards the stack of wood where Lily had been to see the empty wheelbarrow; she, however, was no where in sight. He turned his head to take in more of the land, and yet he still did not see her. He knew from the smells coming from the inn that lunch was being made and served and he felt anger swell in him when he realized she had gone in for the meal and left him to work. He irritably grabbed a piece of a wood before roughly swinging the ax, sending the pieces flying from the force of the blade.

"Here," he heard her soft voice behind him and he turned quickly to see her standing behind him, having walked around the side of the inn as she returned. He took what she was offering him seeing that it was a silver hair clip.

"Are these flowers?" he asked looking closer at it to see there was a design carved into it.  
"Lilies," she said softly. "It was all I could find and your hair seemed to be bothering you."  
He nodded before pulling his hair back and fastened it with the clip, a feminine piece of silver with her name's flower carved into it. He grabbed another piece of wood and looked up to see her grabbing the barrow and rolling it back to collect more wood.  
The sun was beginning its descent by the time he had chopped all of the wood for the inn to use during the upcoming winter and she had stacked it neatly against the back of the building.

"Thank you," she said softly as they slowly walked around the side of the building.  
His arms were pleasantly sore, having spent most of his life doing laborious work he had rather enjoyed the rhythm of chopping wood, and his stomach aching for food. "You are welcome," he said in return.

"Will you never tell me your name?" she asked, coming to a stop to which he followed suit.

He stared up at her, her eyes a dark blue in the fading sun, her hair colored red from its fiery streaks as it set. "Why do you want it?"

"Why did you want mine?" she asked rather than answered, causing him to smile.

"Perhaps with more time I may come to tell you," he answered honestly, not wanting her to know who he was yet; enjoying the free way in which she spoke to him far too much at the moment. Her sweet face, so young and full of life, open and trusting from having lived a life of safety and comfort; and his, which was hard and mistrusting from years of rough living, from facing tremendous fear and sorrow, his eyes cruel and unforgiving.

_I could break her_, he thought. _I could destroy her with a simple touch and she would let me_. She was kind and innocent, warm and compassionate – he had seen who she was in how she spoke with people, as though there was nothing else she would rather be doing – but she yearned for something else, she was bored; he could see that in her interest in him. He was a wildfire and she wanted to burn.


	4. If We Have To Part, So It Shall Be

_Renee: I think Thorin is my favorite too. I'm glad you liked the hair clip scene, I loved picturing him wearing something with flowers on it. He is definitely darker in this story, but I wasn't sure how he would be before the quest - before he found the hope that his home could be retaken. His darkness will lighten a bit, probably in the next chapter. Thanks for reviewing._

* * *

In the end he had paid for another night, and he laid down wearily on his bed wondering just how long he was planning to stay. He had thought after that day she would have stopped teasing him and given him what he knew they both desired; but after he had stepped closer, his eyes fixed on her lips, she had smiled shyly and stepped away. _She's good at playing games_, he thought, _I'm better at winning_.

He woke early the next morning with a purpose set in place, and her teasings and her games would not keep him from getting what he wanted. He found her taking the chairs off the tables and followed her into the kitchen and watched as she made him breakfast. He looked at the chicken and biscuits she gave him, and the gravy he had asked for, the smells making his mouth water.

"Get another plate," he said as she set a cup of water at the table he sat at. She sighed irritably at his order before complying. "Sit," he said motioning to the bench across him and her brows furrowed as she sat. He put a biscuit, a piece of chicken and some gravy on the plate she had just retrieved before sliding it towards her  
"Oh no," she said shaking her head, "I made that for you, I can't eat your food."

She pushed the plate back towards him and he looked hard at her. "I insist," he said, his tone of voice not one to be refused. Though she opened her mouth to say no again but he did not give her the chance; "Eat. You are skinny enough as it is."  
She stared at him a moment too long before ripping a piece off of the biscuit and dipping it in the gravy. "Thank you," she said rudely and he looked up at her to see he had upset her. It took him a moment before he realized what he said had been an insult. They ate in silence, him enjoying her cooking and she still angry with him.

"What will you do today?" he asked after he had finished.

"Go to the field and harvest the last of the vegetables before winter," she said gathering their plates and making for the kitchen.  
He followed behind and watched as she cleaned the dishes, her hair held back in a messy braid. She stiffened when he pressed against her, her back warm against his chest, her belly nonexistent beneath his hand. She turned her head to look at him, her eyes heated with the passion that churned in his gut. He slipped his hands in the water and took the plate and rag from her hands and began cleaning the it. With an arm around either side of her he kept her trapped against him as he finished the dishes, occasionally pressing his lips against her neck. He could almost feel her heart pounding against his chest, pleased with how he was affecting her. After he had finished he ran his wet hands along her sides, cupping a breast in his hand, feeling her breathing deepen. He squeezed it roughly before releasing her, stepping out of the kitchen and into the hall. He smiled when he thought of the wet marks his hands had made on her dress – as though he had branded her. She was good at playing games but he was better.

It was late afternoon before she found the time to finish harvesting the vegetables, and as she walked through the ends of the town to reach her family's field she had caught Thorin's eye. He had been leaving a tailor's place when he saw the sun gleam on her golden hair, now loose from the braid. He walked in stride with her as she went to the field, seeing at the most five sacks worth of vegetables left for her to gather.

"Do you normally carry them back to the inn?" he asked as he watched her open a sack and began pulling carrots from the ground.  
"No, Vit carries them back in a wagon."  
"Who is he?" Thorin asked, not remembering anyone of that name.  
She looked up at him and smiled. "An old friend of my father's."  
He stared at her for a long while, watching her as she plucked the vegetables from the ground and filled the sacks. Not long after she finished the man she had spoken of came round with a pony-drawn wagon, an aged and weathered man. Thorin hefted the sacks onto the wagon before Vit tipped his hat and led the buggy back to the inn.  
"He doesn't say much," Thorin mused.  
"He lived in the village a few miles away before raiders pillaged it. They cut out his tongue," she said quietly.

He looked at her, the sunset a little more than two hours off, her face open and kind as it was naturally. He stepped closer, pushing her back against a tree, seeing first her eyes widen and then grow dark as he knew his were. He smiled knowing no more games would be played, the look in her eye all he needed to know she would give him what he wanted.


	5. I'd like to help you suffer less

_Renee: I'm glad you enjoyed last chapter, I would love for him to come up behind me too. He will be nicer, as much as he's capable, but he'll still be just as passionate as he always it._

* * *

Her lips were soft against his own, sweet and compliant against his demands. He pressed closer to her, feeling her gasp against his mouth when she felt him firm against her hip. He smirked before pulling her dress up, his hands running along her smooth hairless legs; she was not the first harlot he'd had, nor would she be his last. Though it had never taken him three days for them to give him what he wanted, and although he had greatly enjoyed her game he had been in a state of wanting far too long to consider being gentle with her.

He stilled completely hearing her gasp, feeling her maidenhood tear. "Why did you not tell me?" he asked looking at her.  
Her head was turned away from him but he could see the glittering of tears in her eyes and he knew he'd hurt her. "I thought you knew," she whispered.

He should have; her shyness, her blushes, her sweetness and kindness – she was no harlot. "Did you want this?" he asked, afraid he had been entirely wrong about her.

She looked at him, no sign of tears in her eyes, though she did not look happy. "Yes but not, not like that," she answered quietly. And though he knew he had caused her pain relief flooded through him when she told him she had not been unwilling. She watched him as he stepped back, her brows furrowing when he began pulling the laces to her dress. "What are doing?"

He looked up at her before nodding impatiently. Her brows rose in surprise when he removed his coat and laid it on the ground, and then they rose higher when he began removing his clothes. He watched as her eyes trailed over his bare body before finding their way back to his. "May I?" he asked, and from the widening of her eyes he realized that was the first time he had not ordered her to do as he wished. He finished untying her dress before slipping it from her shoulders, no promise he would not hurt her again, no apology; he undressed her and she let him.  
"You never answered my question," she said softly after he had laid her on his coat and settled on top of her.

Looking down at her, her skin golden in the setting sun, her beauty struck him. "Thorin," he told her quietly.  
"What?" she asked confused.  
"My name," he said spreading her legs and moving further between them, "is Thorin." The corners of his mouth quirked at her smile of disbelief. Her voice was soft, barely a breath, but he heard it all the same; his name falling beautifully from her lips. The next she said his name it came as a moan, a thrill coursed through him at the sound but he restrained himself. He pleased her with his hands and mouth, the sun falling beneath the earth, the stars twinkling above them. The night was getting on when he finally took her again, her body rubbed raw from his beard, and she spread her legs around him as she welcomed him; he was far gentler with her than he had ever been with another, restraining himself in an agonizing way that made his own release cause him to tremble.

He laid against her panting, feeling the rapid flutter of the heartbeat in her neck's vein on his cheek, her hands warm around his back.

"Thorin," she said softly, capturing his attention.

"Lily," he said in return.

She lay quietly beneath him, seeing in her eyes the thoughts churning in her mind. "Thorin Oakenshield."

He looked down at her, her now knowing who he was and he nodded.

"You did not want to be treated as a king," she said, her brows furrowed as she tried to understand why he had told no one who he was.

"No," he answered. "Not by you."

She looked up at him, her skin milky in the moonlight, her eyes a deep blue. "A moment of reprieve," she said softly, now understanding. "That's what I am for you."

"It's what you were," he said absentmindedly, though he had entirely enjoyed the way her voice curled around his name he had not wanted her to know who he was.

"Do you wish for me to treat you like a king?"

He stared down at her sweet face, seeing the innocence that had always been there. "No." His smile was small as he stroked her hair. "Ow," he cried more in surprise than in pain after she punched him in the arm. "What in Durin's name was that for?" he asked angrily, moving back as she sat up.

"That was for thinking me a whore," she said pulling his coat to cover her breasts. Try as he might Thorin could not think of a single thing to say to her and she smirked upon seeing that, though she continued to stare at him expectantly.  
"I am not sure what you wish for me to say," he admitted.  
"This is normally the moment when those who are not royalty tend to apologize for their wrongdoings," she explained.

"Do people normally tend to apologize to the person who just hit them?" he asked incredulous.  
She tilted her head to the side as she appraised him, a small smile on her lips. He looked at her as she continued to look at him, neither of them speaking for a long while. "Do I act like a whore?" she asked softly.

"No," he said realizing now just how true those words were. "I mistook many things in my desire for you."

A smile twitched on her lips and she stood, still holding his jacket to cover herself and bent to pick up her dress. She let his jacket fall to the ground after she'd slipped her dress on, and he stood before moving closer to her and pushed her hands aside as he began to relace it.

"I would have you again," he said, his voice a low growl.

"Would you be willing to wait?" she asked, her own desire clear in her eyes.  
He smiled before stepping even closer, his unclothed body flush against hers. "As long as you ask me to," he said knowing he would, though he did not believe he would have to wait long. He grabbed her wrist as she lifted her hand, and then grabbed the other as she lifted it too.  
"Have I not earned touching you?" she asked coyly making him smile, recalling his reason for him not having told her his name.  
"Not yet, though I know just how you can." In truth he was not used to people touching him, at least not that intimately.  
She smiled and gave a small laugh of unbelief before looking at him. He continued to hold her wrists, keeping her in place, though he had not expected to feel her lips on his. His eyes closed and he released her arms to wrap his around her waist, her mouth sweet on his tongue. It had been a long while before anyone had deliberately gone against his word, and he was thoroughly enjoying it.


	6. Not be so locked up in your thoughts

_Renee: I thought it might be. I had never thought of Thorin as ever wanting to escape from being a king in exile, so I'm having a lot of fun writing it; as well as his dark passionate side. He'll continue to be softer(ish), but her actual age is coming soon and it's quite a shock for him. So I'm pretty excited about that._

* * *

The innkeeper gave him a strange look when he paid for yet another night, him not having any true purpose to remain in Bree. He woke to a muffled slamming, and he sat up grabbing his ax thinking someone was in his room. He heard the sound of footsteps and realized that someone was in the room next to his and he relaxed slightly before slipping out of the bed and silently opening the door. All tension left him when he saw a flash of gold and he made his foot falls as quiet as possible before grabbing the person and pulling her into his room.  
"G'morning, Lily," he said gruffly, pressing fully against her.

"Thorin," she said surprised, her lips parted in a smile. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like woman?" he asked lifting her into his arms before moving to the bed. "I am having you again."  
"Thorin," she said laughing slightly, trying to move from beneath his heavy body as he laid on top of her. "I have much to do today."  
He stared down at her, the light of a candle his only means of seeing her. "I would not take long," he said smiling as he bent his head to kiss her neck. He smirked against her throat at the sound of her pleased gasp when his tongue found her flesh.

"Thorin," she said again, the sound of his name on her lips making him desire her more. Though the feel of her fingers in his hair as she gently pulled it made him sit up, entirely displeased. He grabbed her wrist as she brought her hand to his face, much like he had the night before. Though he released his hold on her at the thoughtful look in her eye. A breath escaped him at the feel of her fingertips on his cheek, something he had let no other woman do. He closed his eyes and simply breathed as he let her touch him, feeling her fingertips across the plane of his face; kissing them as they ran over his lips.  
It took a moment, a long moment, before he realized what he was doing and his eyes shot open and he brushed her hand aside. "Are you asking me to wait?"

"What would you do if I said yes?" she asked and he smirked.  
"I would tell you I might not be able to," he answered making her smile.

She looked up at him, seeing in her eyes she wanted to say yes. "I do not think I could be quiet," she said softly, and a corner of his mouth lifted at her words.

"No, I don't believe you could," he said softly in agreement. He rolled off of her and pulled her on her feet, though he very much wanted her on her back. "What are you doing on this day?"

"Changing linens, washing the dirty ones. My mother is running to the next town so I will also be preparing the meals," she said as she walked through his door and towards the stack of sheets she had set down. "What will you do?" she asked before walking into the empty room and changing the sheets.  
Thorin watched as she moved, pulling the sheets over the bed, tucking them into the corners, the flow of her hips as she bent and stood. "I will change the linens and wash the dirty ones as well as help cook the meals," he said coyly, repeating everything she had said. She turned to him to see he had picked up her stack of sheets, and he smirked at her raised brow.

"I would be happy for the help," she said finally before taking the dirtied sheets and putting them in the pile she had already collected, "and the company."  
He returned her smile before going to his own room and helped her change the sheets, it not even time for breakfast before they had finished all the rooms. He left her in the kitchen, not accepting her decline of his offer to wash while she cooked, and an hour later they both sat by the river's edge and washed the sheets.

Thorin washed, dragging the sheets over the washboard, as Lily wrung them out and hung them on a line. Many of the sheets barely hung above the ground, only an inch separating the dirt and the hem. Thorin finished his last sheet before wringing it himself and throwing it on the line.

He heard her pleased sigh as he wrapped his hands around her stomach, his chest warm against her back, his mouth pressing kisses on her neck and cheek. He waited until she met his eye, waited to see her agreement before he turned her around and captured her mouth. He undid the buttons of her dress before pushing it aside so his hands could roam over her chest, causing her to gasp when his hands found what he was looking for.

"I don't have time for all you did yesterday," she said breathlessly.  
"I do not have the patience for it," he said before lowering her to the ground behind the wall of sheets. He raised himself on his elbows and looked down at her, searching for any sign she was unwilling.  
"Will you make me say please?" she asked, having guessed what he was looking for, surprising him with that she did.

He answered by pulling the skirts of her dress up, his thumbs running along the inside of her thighs as he raised it higher. She proved to be right in that she could not be quiet, though it was not her at fault; Thorin was moving specifically to make her moan with each thrust, and he was quite pleased when she did. He felt her arms around his back, her nails digging into his skin, her head on his shoulder as he cradled her to his chest. There came a point when he could hardly keep quiet himself, making noises he had hardly ever made. And he laid against her breathing heavily after he'd finished. He had only ever been with a whore, never allowing that moment to lose himself as he just did. He sighed at the feel of her hands in his hair, enjoying the gentle rhythm of her fingers as she ran them through it.

"I have to prepare lunch," she whispered, hearing from her voice that she did not want to go; surprising himself at the realization he did not want her to either. At that thought he stood, redoing his pants, looking down at her as she stared up at him. The top of her dress was still unbuttoned, revealing her humble breasts, and her skirts were still over her hips and her legs still spread from where he had lain.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly, hardly speaking at all though she heard and it made her smile. He moved quickly, straddling her waist before she could blink, pressing himself firmly between her legs. Her back arched as he ran his hands over her breasts, pinching and squeezing and kneading, rocking his hips against hers; wishing he was ready to take her again. As it was he ceased his teasing and redid her dress before pulling her up as he stood.

"I would like another night."


	7. Afraid of love and all under the sun

Ten nights he had paid for, ten days since he had met her. He had laid with her for seven days, never finishing inside her, always removing himself just as he came. He had her in every way he knew how, sometimes only pleasing himself and sometimes only pleasing her, mostly pleasing them both. He knew he needed to leave, that he had duties to tend to, nephews to look after; he was a king, and sharing a bed with a young woman was not how he should conduct his time and efforts. Each day he would wake telling himself it would be his last in Bree, though he would feel Lily stir beside him and those thoughts fled him at the the sight of her skin.

"Would you tell me of your home?" she asked, her head on his chest and his hand in her hair as they laid in his room after making love. It had been three days ago that he had invited her to his bed, both of them enjoying the feel of sheets against them.

"What would you like to know?" He ran his fingers through her golden curls, his other hand tracing patterns on her back. He felt her own fingers running along his chest, his coarse hair rough on her palm.  
"Anything," she said quietly, "that isn't Bree."  
He sighed as he thought, calling Erebor to mind. "It was beautiful, the green marble of the floors almost glowing. And the treasure, oh the treasure," he trailed off as he remembered the great hoard and how it glittered and shone. It took him a while, a very long while, before his mind came back to her.  
"And then the dragon came," she said, him having already told her of Smaug. He already knew much about her, though having spent her life in one place there was not as much to tell. He learned that her father had died at the hands of raiders when she was young, her being a small child had been the only thing that had spared her from rape. It was something that had made him strangely relieved.

"Do you think you will ever see it again?" she asked, raising her head to look at him.  
He stroked her cheek as he stared at her, knowing he should have already left her – that he never should have had her. "I wish it everyday," he admitted, giving her a part of himself he had never offered another. He released a breath at the feel of her lips on his, a soft touch he may not have felt if not for the shock it sent through him. "How many years have you seen?" he asked, a question he had yet to pose for he deemed it unimportant.  
She stared at him, seeing that she was searching for something in his eyes. "Sixteen," she said softly. He felt as though his heart had stopped; "Six," he stuttered. "Durin's beard, you're a child," he exclaimed staring at her in shock.  
"How old did you think I was?" she asked obviously not understanding his reaction.  
"Nineteen," he said as though that were better.  
"So you believe nineteen is a more fitting age than sixteen when compared to your hundred and eighty years?" she asked, her mouth quirked in a small smile.

He closed his mouth when he realized it was slightly agape, completely at a loss for words. He hadn't considered her youth in such as a manner as he was then, though he did not think it was enough to make him leave. "I have taken advantage of you, of your innocence," he said finally.  
"You stole my innocence," she said making him wince. "Though I did give it willingly. If it is any consolation, I would let you again."  
He knew it should not be, he knew he should not have felt himself stir at the thought of bedding her. Though he did and he had thoroughly enjoyed her. She laid her head back on his chest and he covered her hand with his own as they both settled for the night.

"I think you will return to your home," she said softly as sleep began to take hold of her.  
He smiled as he held her, his dreams filled with thoughts of retaking Erebor; though he woke knowing he was not able. The first morning he had woken and she had not been in his bed he had been alarmed, though he knew now that she was seeing to her own duties. He walked through the tavern, the sun hardly peeking over the horizon, winter coming upon them faster. He found her in the kitchen rolling out dough, and he closed the door behind him. He moved to stand behind her, her hips fitting snuggly against his; her mother would not wake for a couple hours more.

"May I?" he asked earning himself a smile, and he felt it like a sword through his heart. He kissed her, slow and teasingly, his hands pulling her skirts up and roaming the spanse of her legs. He knew how he wanted her though he did not think she would enjoy it.

He watched her head tilt to the side, her brows furrowed slightly as she looked at him. "You may have me as you will," she said, guessing his hesitation; surprising him with her intuitivity as she always did.

"You may not find pleasure," he said though he was already turning her away from him, bending her over the table they used as a counter.

"Would you?" she asked as he pulled her dress over her hips and undid his pants, his hands roaming over her backside.  
"Very much," he said before taking her. He held her hips, her feet no longer touching the floor as he leaned over her. He had been wrong, she was finding pleasure just as he was, the proof in her moans as well as his. The table was loud as it slammed into the wall with his every thrust, caring not if anyone found them in that moment. Though they both finished shortly after, her laying over the table and him laying over her, both panting.

"Lily," he whispered, her name burning his throat as he said it.  
"Yes?" she asked breathlessly.  
He pulled her dress back over her hips before standing, pulling her along with him. He stood staring at her, brushing the curls out of her face as he stored her features to memory. "I am leaving tomorrow," he said quietly and watched as she blinked in shock.

"Oh," was all she said before she nodded, "you should probably not have stayed this long," she said and he thought he could hear the pain in her voice though her face was as sweet and kind as it always was. "Go sit, I'll bring your breakfast to you."  
He kept his distance from her that day, knowing she did not want his company; not wanting hers if only to spare himself the thought of leaving her. He laid in his bed with a sigh, the space beside him empty and cold, not allowing himself to feel anything. He sat up when his door opened, releasing the hilt of his ax when he saw who it was.  
"Lily," he said softly as she moved closer. He let her push his shoulders to the bed, let her pull her dress up and straddle his waist after she undid his pants, he let her ride him and moaned unceasingly at the agonizing slowness of her movements, he let her keep him inside her as he came. He gave her all he had, knowing he should never have stayed. He lay breathing heavily and he felt her move off him as she slipped away, not a single word spoken – no goodbye. And so when dawn broke and he stirred from sleep he found a small bundle of food on the table beside his bed to see him to the Blue Mountains. He gathered his things and steeled himself as he always had, leaving behind his golden lily.


	8. I'll hide out in your space

_TA 2927 – One year later_

He sat down wearily, his thighs aching from how long he rode his pony without rest. A raven haired woman offered him a mug of ale which he gratefully took and finished quickly. He did the same with the meal that was brought out for him, the same dark-haired woman serving him with the same appraising smile. "Would you like anything else?" she asked biting her bottom lip, obviously flirting.

"Yes I would," he said and her smile grew. "I would like a room, could you point me towards the innkeeper?" He watched as her smile fell at the realization he had no interest in her and she pointed towards the door that led to the main hall.  
He nodded his thanks before walking in the direction he had been pointed and smiled at the person writing in the ledger. "I am disappointed to find tavern whores have been established here," he said coming to a stop at the table. Dark blue eyes filled with complete shock met his and his smile grew larger, happier.  
"Thorin?"

Even after a year her voice still sent a thrill through him. "Lily," he said tasting her sweet name. He had hardly been able to breathe the past year without thinking of her, and though he pushed her memory aside it always returned. She was young, she had been innocent, she was naive, and he had taken advantage of her; he felt as though he had a responsibility to her, a duty in seeing her wellbeing.

"What brings you out this way?" she asked politely, as though they had not lain together.

He stared hard at her, noticing small differences in her appearance: she had grown taller, her breasts had grown larger though not too much, she was thinner, her eyes not as happy and her face not as sweet. "Perhaps I have come to see you," he said as though it were not the truth, only that it very much was.

"Why?" she whispered and he moved around the table to stand before her, to feel the heat from her body as he hadn't in a year.

"Perhaps I have missed you," he admitted, surprising himself with how much he had. He missed much about her: her kindness, her youth, her flesh, her mouth, her face. They would spend long hours talking after they had been together, for all her youth she had heard many stories on life and it reflected in her strange maturity. She had been sweet, she was sweet even in how she made love; she was not sweet now. She was sad.

He did not grab her wrist when she raised her hand, he did not stop her fingertips from finding his face; instead he reveled in the feel of her touch. "I had hoped you would return," she said softly, "when you first left. Much has happened since then."

He could hear the despair in her voice but he could not see it in her eyes; he could not see anything in them. "What has happened?" he asked greatly wanting to know.  
"How long do you plan to stay?" she asked, him realizing there was much he did not know. He saw a warmth flood through her eyes when she saw the answer in his; in truth he had no plans of leaving soon. "Ask me tomorrow."  
And so he did; he woke early the next morn and walked to the kitchen where she was already preparing his breakfast. He came to stand by her side and watched as she made his food, only touching her when he brushed the hair out of her face. "Who is the woman with the dark hair?"  
"My cousin, Sage. I needed help and she came willingly. She works for free and stays in a room without charge, so long as she continues working," Lily answered as she handed him the plate.

"You needed help?" he asked remembering how much she did on her own a year ago.  
"I own the inn, Thorin, I cannot do it alone." She retrieved a cup of water before leading him to a table and he grabbed her arm to keep her with him.

She sat opposite him and watched as he ate, looking up at her and seeing the sharp planes of her cheeks he made her eat half his plate. He knew for her to own the inn that her mother was dead and it explained the sadness in her eyes as well as how she distanced herself. "What will you do today?"  
"I do not have time for your distractions," she said taking his plate back to the kitchen, hearing no mirth in her voice. He watched the furious way in which she scrubbed his plate clean and felt her stiffen when he came up behind her. He ran his hands along her sides until he found her chest, her back arching in his hold. She allowed her head to fall back when his mouth found her neck and he realized she may have missed him too. Her eyes were dark and hooded when he turned her to face him, the desire written clearly in them as they were in his. She cupped his face with her wet hands and pulled his mouth to hers, and he met her needy tongue with his own. It had been a long year.


	9. emptiness on my face

He allowed her the rest of the day, helping her where it was needed, running his hands along her body when there was no one around, but mostly he sat away from her and watched her; his eyes raking over her slim figure he had spent days memorizing a year previous. He wanted her in his bed writhing beneath him, he wanted to hear her as he pleased her in a way only he had – something that made him desire her all the more – he wanted that moment where he could lose himself in how much he enjoyed having her that he found in no other woman but her, he wanted the feel of her hand running along his chest as she laid against him before sleep.

He realized a few months before that laying with her was not what he missed the most: it was the moments after, the moments while he made love to her that made him feel as though she could know the parts of himself he kept hidden, the mere fact that he considered bedding her making love. For that was what he did, he allowed the small moments filled with emotion where he was gentle, where he let himself care for her – against his better judgment, against all reason, he cared for her. What he did not know was why.

"You're never going to listen when I tell you that you do not have to help, are you?," Lily asked as she entered the kitchen to see him cleaning the large pile of dishes from supper.

He looked over his shoulder and smirked at her. "No," he answered as he continued to clean his plate. "Come dry," he ordered, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth as he thought of the flash of irritation on her face. But looking at her when she came to stand next to him, seeing the soft look on her face, he realized she had in fact missed him. He turned back to the stack of dirty dishes, shaking the want to kiss her away, and handed her the dish he had just cleaned.

A short while and they had all of the plates washed and dried, and then a time after that to put them away. He then placed the chairs in the dining hall on the table as Lily began sweeping, placing the dirt pan on the floor for her to sweep her piles into before dumping them into the waste can. Most of the patrons had retired to their rooms for the night before Thorin had finished helping Lily. He grabbed the coin purse out of his pocket before holding the payment for his room for the night.

"How long will you stay?" she asked without taking it, brushing the hair out of her face.

He grabbed her hand but she placed it onto his chest so he could not give her the coins. He stared at her feeling the warmth of her hand through her shirt and sighed. "I do not know," he answered her honestly. "I have no plans of leaving as of yet."  
He watched a small smile curl on her lips, the sweet look once more in her eye. "I would offer you the same arrangement as my cousin, until you leave," she said, admitting that she knew he would not stay.

"What would my duties entail?" he asked knowing her cousin's was serving the guests.

"What would you deem worthy of your time?" she asked letting him decide.

He smiled before taking a step closer to her, his body flush against hers. "I'll do whatever you ask." He watched her eyes darken with the promise, feeling her nails as they dug into his chest and her breasts push further against him as she breathed, his own breathing deepening as he flushed with wanting. He fought the urge to kiss her, knowing if he did he would would not be able to resist having her then. "Take me to your room," he said, giving her another order making her smile as she stepped away from him.

He followed after her watching the flow of her hips, seeing they had widened slightly, feeling himself harden with each step. Her room was at the end of a long hall, separate from the others, isolated even. He thought of all the ways he could have her, how loud he could make her scream before anyone would hear, almost unable to keep himself from throwing her against the wall and having her then. Her room was smaller than he had thought, only a bed, dresser, and night table were in it. He wrapped his hands around her waist as she lit a candle, untying the laces of her dress before running his rough calloused hands over her soft skin. He did not have the patience or the will to wait any longer, his desire having buildt over the year, and he barely removed his own clothes before he took her.

He reveled in the way she wrapped around him; her hands around his back, her legs far up his sides. He moaned and grunted against her throat, his sounds mingling with her own, losing himself completely. He was not ready when he felt his finish building, in all honesty he wished he could continue as he was without ever stopping – feeling Lily clinging to him in uncontrollable need. As it was he laid on top of her breathing heavily not satisfied in the slightest, but he was not yet ready to take her again. He stared down at her, leaning into her hand as she stroked his cheek. He rolled off of her and held her tight against his chest, the top of her head beneath his chin; holding her close as they fell asleep. He stirred hours later when he felt her slip out of his arms, dawn still at least an hour off. "Where are you going?" he asked pulling her back on top of him.

"I have to prepare for the day," she said kissing him gently before slipping away again. "Go back to sleep, I'll give you something to do after breakfast."

He didn't though, he threw the covers off him before pulling his pants on, smirking at her as she looked over her shoulder at him while pulling a new dress on. He finished pulling his clothes on before following her out into the hall.

"Do you plan to follow me today as well?" she asked pleasantly before sitting at a desk to go over the inn's profits.

"I told you," he said lifting her from the chair to settled beneath her, sitting her comfortably in his lap, "I will do anything you ask." He pressed a kiss against her jaw before settling back into the chair, not quite awake yet, wondering if he ever planned on leaving her – for in that moment he couldn't imagine it.

* * *

_So I have two things I need feedback on; I am thinking of changing the rating to M, just so I don't have to worry about it. And, I'm planning on having him stay for about half a year to a year, and I'm thinking of doing each chapter as a month and just going over the highlight moments of that month(putting in key scenes and what not). If I go at the pace I am now, which is going about day by day, or skipping only a few days, it's gonna take a while before I get to when he leaves again. So I guess I would like to know whether you would rather me keep a slower pace or speed it up a bit.  
_


	10. I'll be keeping you safe

_I would just like to thank you all so much for your reviews, they were very helpful. I greatly appreciate it, and I hope you enjoy._

* * *

Over the next few days Lily gave Thorin simple tasks, still not fully welcoming the idea of his help. Though she finally decided to have him do the manual labor, knowing she was not strong enough to do it herself. And so he began to spend his days carrying crates of wine and ale, sacks of food, repairing damaged tables, chairs, doors, beds, and so forth. Each night he would help her clean the dining hall and then follow her to her room where he would take her before bed.

He was not always gentle and he was not always patient, but he never failed to please her as well. Though there were nights, a small few, where he was tender in the way he made to love her; often times pleasing her several times with his hands and mouth before finally taking her, kissing her heavily as he moved. And yet he was never satisfied, his finish always came before he wanted it, wanting the feelings swirling in his body to never stop; though they always did.

It was on those few nights when they would talk quietly before sleep, him telling her of Erebor and the Blue Mountains and of war and her telling him of what had happened while he had been away. He quickly realized she did not like discussing it, though after many nights she finally did.

"Our town was pillaged, houses were wrecked stores broken into and stolen from. Not many people were killed though a good number were," she said softly as she laid on his chest.

He ran his hand through her hair feeling her fingers running through the thick hair on his chest, a feeling he greatly enjoyed. "Your mother was one of them," he said and her fingers stilled.

"She was in the study, going over profits and expenses. She had little more than a candle to defend herself with," Lily said quietly.

"Where were you?" he asked not wanting to imagine, or hear, all the things a raider would do to a beautiful young woman.  
"I was in the kitchen."

He held her in silence for a long while, not believing another man had touched her, that a man had hurt her. "What happened?" he asked, finding himself needing to know.

"A man came in holding a knife, I realized later he had killed my mother," she said bitterly as her fingers resumed stroking his chest.

"Did he hurt you?" Thorin asked gently, feeling anger and loathing at the thought of it.  
"The knives were too far so I hit him with the frying pan," she said quietly, and he felt the small smile on her mouth against his chest.

He felt a smile quirk on the corner of his own mouth at the image of her arming herself with a pan. Her hair was golden silk wound around his hand, his other hand covering hers over his chest.

"I did not want to run the inn," she whispered.  
"What did you want?"

She turned her head up to look at him and he stroked her cheek. "To fall in love," she said with a sad smile, "to be wed and have children. I wanted to live on a farm, with lots of animals." She continued to look at him, her face lovely in the candlelight as it etched her skin with gold. "What did you want?"

He stared at her as he thought, her eyes such a dark blue they almost looked black. "I wanted a lot of things," he told her, though he did not say more – he couldn't.  
But he did not have to; "You want your home, your kingdom. You are Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror, King under the Mountain." He was surprised by her words, that she knew what he desired, and how much he enjoyed hearing her call him a king. She sat up and rested her head on her hand, hovering over his face as she stared down at him. "I believe you will be some day," she said softly, warming his heart at the sweet look on her face.

He raised his chin to find her lips and he pulled her to him as he wrapped his arms around her. She settled once more on his chest, her head beneath his chin. He laid awake holding her in his arms, listening to her breathing deepen as she fell into slumber; realizing he could not stay with her for the rest of his days, knowing she would not leave her family's inn though he greatly wanted to ask her to. He could give her children and a farm, he could give her animals; what he could not fully give her was love, something he knew very well. And he knew because of that that he would never ask her to leave with him.


	11. when you're cold and alone

The weeks turned into months and Thorin continued to stay, thoughts of leaving not yet crossing his mind. He would often time finish whatever extra tasks Lily asked of him and he would find her in the study going over the inn's profits and expenses; Lily had given the task of cleaning the dining hall to her cousin Sage for with spring blooming more people were staying in the inn.  
That was where he had found her on one night in particular.

"Would you mind if I took your room for guests?" Lily asked him as she poured over the papers on the desk.  
Thorin stared down at her, seeing from the many loose strands of hair that she had been there a while. "Where would I stay?" he asked, a small thought of her not wanting him any longer crossing his mind.  
He waited until she looked up at him, seeing the startled confusion in her eyes. "I thought you would stay with me," she said quietly. He stared down at her in silence and she continued; "I mean you already do so I thought I could use your room. If I was wrong to assume then it is alright, you can keep your room; I am sorry for,"  
"No," he said grabbing her hand to still their shuffling of papers, silencing her flustered speech. "I will if you ask." He wanted to hear her say it, he wanted to feel the way her words cut his heart as no other's had. He moved around the desk to stand before her, staring heatedly into her eyes as he settled on top of her. He could feel her breathing deepen as his had, see it in her eyes that she was filled with want as he was.

She took a breath when he pulled her dress up, running his hands along her smooth thighs; her heartbeat a rapid flutter in her neck felt beneath his tongue. Her body flushed beneath his hands as desire swam through her, pressing himself against her as he stiffened.

He brought his face level to hers, brushing his lips against hers without kissing her; her eyes dark and hooded just as he knew his were. "Stay with me," she said, her voice no more than a breath upon his lips. He felt the weight of those words, and even stronger the weight of his answer; there was no gentleness between them, only passion.

She hardly cared for removing his shirt and her fingers instead found the buckle of his pants as his tongue found hers in her mouth. He groaned when her hips sought out his, pressing fully against him. He pulled her dress up over her waist before hooking her legs over the armrests of the chairs, carelessly doing away with his trousers.

Over the few months he had been there he had taken her at least once a day and she learned how to stifle her sounds so they would not be found; however not even Thorin could stop his moans and cries as he moved, giving her a promise they both knew he would not keep. He felt the waves of her release tighten around him and he rode through them bringing her to another before he finally came. He laid against her, her legs still spread over the arms of the chair, feeling something he had not felt since he had come back; he was satisfied.

They continued on much the same over the next few weeks, Thorin refusing to let her travel to the next town over to trade by herself and so he would join her when she would go. Lily often stayed in the study well past the time she should have come to bed; Thorin realized she saw to many things for the inn during the day and only had time to look over the income when night fell. Many nights he went to the study to drag her to bed, knowing she would stay hours longer than she needed to. Other nights, the days before and after she would trade with the town closest, he would give her a moment of reprieve whether or not he found his own release – more often than not he would kneel before her chair and pull her dress over her hips and bury his head between her legs, forcing himself to lay in her bed and please himself. But there were other nights when he would come see her in the study to find her with her head on the desk asleep. It was on those nights he would take her in his arms and carry her to their room, laying with her wound in his arms as he too fell into slumber.

It was because of her late nights that Thorin began taking her in various places during the day when there was no one around; the kitchen, an empty room, the barn where the livestock was kept, the river when they washed the sheets, the wagon when they went to the next town, the field where they harvested; though he greatly enjoyed having her in her bed. "What are you doing to me woman?" he often asked her to which she would respond; "I could ask you the same."

He knew he was growing careless, that there weren't many people who would overlook what he was doing; knowing many would accuse him of rape even if they knew it wasn't. He also knew he could destroy her reputation in the town, casting her as a whore. She knew it too, though it mattered little to either one of them. The consequences did not stop them, not even when someone did find them out.


	12. til you come out and play

Fall was coming on soon, the nights bringing a chilly wind, and it was time to begin harvest. Thorin's arms were sore from lifting the many sacks full of food though there were always more; he did not understand how Lily had done this on her own. She pulled the vegetables from the ground and put them in the sack he held open for her, and then he carried them to the shed they kept their stores in to which she would put them away when they ran out of sacks.

He had been impressed to hear that she sold the inn's field and bought one closer, though she had no choice for Vet had been killed in the raid as well; these being the first vegetables and fruits to have been grown – however now they had to carry the sacks to the barn which took no more than five minutes though it was a long few minutes when burdened with a heavy weight.

Thorin had just set a bag down when he heard her footsteps behind him; having come to know the sound of her foot falls over the months he stayed.

"I filled the last two," she said running a hand over her brow. They were both covered in a sheen of sweat and he found himself wanting to rid them both of their clothes and to have her then. "After we are finished," she said smiling and he smirked before going to gather the last two sacks.

He dragged them both back, the sun setting in the sky as he brought the last two sacks back for the day. He had just rounded the corner to the entrance to the shed when he heard a small thump he did not recognize, having heard the sounds she made as she set up the stores from the times before. He dropped the sacks and made for the door to the shed, his hand on the hilt of the ax he always carried with him, to see a man's back as he straddled Lily's waist. It wasn't until he heard her choked gasp before he moved, holding the blade of his ax to the back of the man's neck.  
"Release her," Thorin growled and the man complied instantly, Lily coughing as she was able to breathe again. "Get off her."

The man stood holding his hands in the air, Lily rolling away from him as she continued to take deep ragged breaths. Thorin looked down at her briefly, seeing the tear streaks on the side of her face, before he grabbed the man's head and slammed it into the wall. The man slumped to the ground groaning as he grabbed his head but Thorin did not give him the chance before he grabbed the man and punched him square in the face.  
"Thorin," Lily gasped.  
Thorin hit the man over and over again, rage and loathing swarming through him.

"Thorin," Lily said hoarsely and he turned his head to her. He saw her wide eyes filled with tears as she looked at the bloodied man, her small hand held to her throat. He threw the man away from his placing the blade of his ax on his throat making the man's eyes widen in fear.  
"You will leave Bree on this night, if I should see you again, if you come near her again I will end you," Thorin roared. He spit on the man before standing and taking Lily in his arms and bringing her back to her room, not caring who saw. He kicked her door shut and set her on the bed before taking her head in his hands. "Are you alright?" he asked looking her over.

"Thorin," she said softly when his eyes found her breast, seeing that the man had torn her dress.  
"Did he?" he asked unable to say it.  
"No, he tried but I," she stopped as she swallowed, wincing at the pain of her sore throat.

Thorin touched the skin of her neck seeing it was a deep red as it started to bruise. "He didn't," Thorin said sighing in relief though anger swelled in him when he saw her wince again. "Tell me what happened," he ordered gently, seeing the reluctance in her eyes.

"Nothing," she said shaking her head and stood moving from his grasp, "he wanted to bed me and I refused."  
"There's more," Thorin said standing to be at her side. "What are you not telling me?"

"It's nothing, Thorin," she said and he could hear the tears in her voice.

He took her in his arms and turned her to face him, brushing the loose curls out of her face. "What is it?" he asked gently. "Lily."  
Her eyes were filled with tears and her jaw was clenched to keep her chin from quivering. He found himself pained to see the distress in her eyes when he turned her chin to face his.

"I can't," she said shaking her head.  
"Tell me," he whispered as he stroked her cheek.  
She sighed before trying to blink her tears away. "He said that," she stopped when her voice broke, swallowing painfully once more. "I had no place to refuse him," she again swallowed heavily and he gently stroked her throat as he waited for her to continue. "When I would fuck a dwarf."  
He felt her words like a blow, realizing what had happened to her had been because of him.  
"I told you it was nothing," she said quietly before pouring a cup of water. It wasn't nothing, he knew that, he had grown careless with her and she had almost died because of it.

He did not miss the hand she raised to her cheek, nor did he miss the dampness that was left behind. He raised his own hand to brush the rest of her tears away. She took his hand and examined it and he watched as her eyes found the broken skin of his knuckle from where he hit the man. Her lips were light on the wounded skin, something that touched him more deeply than anything had before.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again," he swore, and he meant it. He kissed her gently before taking her in his arms, but never would he imagine the person to hurt her the most would be him.


	13. I'd like to know you more

He woke the next day to her tying a clean dress around her and he grabbed her hands ceasing their movements. "You will stay here and rest, I'll see to your duties," he said softly when he took note of her heavily bruised throat. Her breathing was shallow and she could hardly swallow, the dark purple was the clear shape of a hand.

"I cannot ask that of you," she said hoarsely, her voice cracking with each word.

"He struck you," Thorin whispered when he saw the bruise on her cheek. He cleared his throat and dropped his hand from her face. "I am not asking, you will rest," he said before putting her back in the bed. He leaned into her hand as she cupped his cheek and he turned his head to kiss her palm before standing. "I will bring your records to you," he told her kissing her lightly before leaving.

He continued to bring her the inn's records of profits and spending, going to the next town to trade, helping Sage with the dining hall and cooking.

"Where's Lily?" Sage had asked suspiciously when she saw him cooking the first morning after Lily was attacked.  
"She is not feeling well," he answered shortly thinking Lily's cousin had no place to question him.  
"So you are taking up her duties?"  
"Is that not what it looks like I'm doing?" he told her harshly causing her to give a small "hmm." "What?" he asked gruffly, his eyes on the sizzling pan rather than Sage.  
"Nothing, I just didn't realize how in love with her you were," she said simply. And when Thorin turned to her shocked she was already gone, leaving him breathing heavily in irritation.

It was a few weeks before the bruises on Lily's neck faded yellow, the one on her cheek completely disappeared, and she refused to sit in her room any longer. "You cannot keep me here forever," she told him as she tied a scarf around her throat.

"It was worth a try," he said quietly as he stared at her, wanting nothing more than to know she was safe in this room. The look on her face was sweet when she turned to him, her fingers soft on his cheek, her lips warm on his. "Do not tease me woman," he told her pulling away. "I have not had you weeks." Before she had been barely able to breathe and after she hardly seemed to want him, making him think she blamed him. But the way she was looking at him, her eyes dark with wanting, and he could feel his need for her in his veins. He pulled her mouth to his, not kissing her nearly as soft as she had, feeling in the way she pressed against him she needed him too. "You have much to do today," he said regretfully.  
"Can you last until sundown?" she asked as she ran her hands along his chest.

He did not want to, he wanted her then; but he also wanted to take his time, tasting every ounce of her flesh before he took her. And so he waited, not touching her throughout the day in the case anyone saw; not willing to take the chance of her getting hurt again. Though the sun set as it always did and Thorin stood impatiently at the door to her study as she finished recording the profits for the day and planning for the next, trying to stop himself from vibrating with how much he wanted her.

When she finally did finish he did not have it in him to wait, to do anything but pull her dress up and take her against the wall; finding the release he had needed for a long few weeks, feeling from how wet she was that she had been in a state of wanting too. He completely removed her dress before laying her on the bed, raking his eyes over her lovely body and then touching her with first his hands and then his mouth; bringing her to several finishes before he finally took her again. He laid on top of her after he came, pressing kisses to her neck; the only way he knew how to apologize for what had happened.

He stared down at her to see her small smile as she stared up at him, his hands in her hair and hers around his back. He kissed her, gently this time – Sage had been right, he was in love with Lily, he just did not know it.


	14. Tell you you're fine

They continued on much the same for the next month, the bruises on her throat faded into unseeing, her voice no longer hoarse and raspy and now sounded as musical as it used to. Thorin continued to take up the heftier of the chores such as making repairs and carrying bundles of food from the shed to the kitchen. He kept his hands away from her body, though they ached to feel her beneath his grip, however he could not keep his eyes from her for they always found her even when she was not near.

With spring come and gone and the visitors to the inn slowing to a steady rate Lily did not need to spend as much time going over the records and so she was able to see to the inn once more. She took up the cooking while Sage continued to serve in the dining hall and then clean it after, Lily also took up her own repairs. Thorin had found her a number of times sitting on a bench fixing blankets for the fall and winter, repairing clothes for a few patrons who could not afford the tailor. It always struck him when he saw her like that how good of a wife she would be, of a mother. It pained him with each breath he took how easily he could imagine it – her sewing his shirts, her playing with their children; it was a beautiful dream, and it destroyed him every time he remembered why he couldn't have that.

He almost felt the knife in his heart when he asked her to mend a shirt he had torn, when he watched her nimble fingers as she sewed. He had not been able to keep himself from her after she finished, to not thank her in the only way he knew how so she would know he did in fact care; he reveled in her moans, feeling his own tear from his throat, his body quivering from the force of his release.

The number of guests was dwindling to a few, though it would pick up again at the end of fall and early winter, and Lily was able to find a few moments to herself during the day; usually she spent them with him, asking about his youth and responsibilities as a prince, what he was to his people now. It was those questions that made him think of leaving and whether she would come with him.  
He ran his hands along her legs as she laid against him in the warm tub, her back warm against his chest, her mouth soft beneath his own. "You would make a good queen," he told her quietly, a thought he continuously returned to.

"What makes you say that?" she asked as she turned her head to look at him, his hand coming to rest upon her middle.

"You are kind, compassionate, you understand the means of labor," he said pressing kisses on her face with each word. She smiled as his beard tickled her neck and cheek and then gasped as his hand slipped between her legs. He watched her eyes fall close as he teased her, heard her release a breath at the feel of his tongue on her neck. He toyed with her for a long few minutes longer, feeling from her tensed muscles her release was building, before removing his hand from her womanhood. He smiled at her sigh of unhappiness, seeing it clear in her dark blue eyes as she turned to him. His response was to turn her around and have her straddle his waist, easing into her as he settled her on top of him.

"You would be my queen," he whispered against her lips as he pulled slowly out of her and then said, "mine alone," as he moved back inside her, filling her completely.

The water splashed on the floor as they moved together, his hands on her hips as he pulled himself deeper and hers in his hair cupping his face as she kissed him. He claimed her then, he claimed her as his own just as she claimed him.

"Say it," he demanded as he ran his hands through her hair, her head on her chest as she laid against him, the water now barely warm.

And as she always did she seemed to know exactly what he meant. "I love you," she said softly causing his heart to race. How he had longed to find a woman to say those words to him, who he wanted to say it in return; though the words were stuck on his tongue and he could not. But he knew he did, and he knew he could not just leave her. He wrapped his arms around her and stood before bringing her to the bed and taking her again, never satisfied in his need for her. He laid awake after she had fallen asleep trying to think of a way to have her come with him.


	15. even though you're not

_TA 2928 – winter _

One of things Thorin liked about Lily's room was the fireplace on the left wall. With the nights being colder she usually kept a fire going in her room, as well as the one in the dining hall and the two on the long hall with the rooms to keep the inn comfortable. Thorin would often lay out a thick blanket in front of the fire and take her as they bathed in the heat of the flames. He loved watching the way the firelight danced upon her hair, glittering more beautifully than any piece of gold.

At the end of the first week of winter they laid on a thick black blanket made of bear hide, his hands under her knees as he spread her legs wider and her hand gripping his hips as she pulled him deeper. Her calves were over his arms as he thrusted a last time, feeling her tighten around him pushing his own finish to the edge; he pulled out of her and pressed firmly against her hip groaning as he spilled his seed. He laid his head against her shoulder, her hands coming to run through his hair.  
"Say it," he mumbled against her skin. "Please."  
"I love you," Lily whispered as she tangled her fingers in his black mane. He smiled against her shoulder as he ran his hands along her sides. It had been months since she first said it and he had yet to say it in return, though he tried; he would feel the words on his tongue but they would stick there. Yet she never asked for him to say it, he knew she could see it in his eyes that he wanted to, and it never ceased to amaze him how understanding she was. And Mahal if he didn't love her for it. He wrapped an arm around her back before rolling them over and holding her to his chest.

The fire had burned down to embers when they woke early the next morning, Thorin now laying across Lily's back as she was sprawled on her belly. He knew she was smiling as he nipped her skin, running his hands all along her body. He chuckled against her shoulder when he felt her try to twist away from his hands when he ran them over her ribs, knowing it was the only place she was ticklish. He continued chuckling as he rolled her over and kissed her, wrapping the blanket around her before lifting her into his arms.

Thorin went out to the shed while Lily prepared the kitchen to cook, the air chilled on his uncloaked back. He set the food on the counter and stood by the stove to get warm, smiling when her small arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed herself against him to warm him with her body. He stood in her embrace for a long while, only stepping apart when Sage cleared her throat from behind them.  
"Should I prepare breakfast as well?" she asked teasingly as she smiled at Lily. Thorin did not prefer Lily's cousin but he did like that Lily had someone to help.

"You could certainly help," Lily offered before handing Sage a rolling pin for the biscuits.  
Thorin stood against the wall and listened as the cousins chattered, moving around each other as they prepared the day's first meal, before leaving to finish chopping the wood Lily had tasked him with. It was not long before she joined him outside, stacking the wood he had already done.  
"Go eat, I'll finish up," she offered as she reached for the ax. If it had not been for the sincerity in her eyes he may have refused her order, as it was he nodded his thanks before retreating to the warmth of the inn.

He found her with a wheelbarrow full of wood as she started stacking it. "Oh," she said startled when she felt his hands on her. "Thank you." He held his coat open for her to put her arms through and then tied his belt around her small waist. He smiled when he saw how his coat engulfed her, her fingers barely visible from the ends of the sleeves. He picked up the plate he put on the step and sat watching her as he ate.

It took them the remainder of the afternoon, Lily occasionally ordering him to follow her inside where she made tea so they could warm. By the time they returned indoors for the final time his muscles were both aching from the work and the cold. He wrapped Lily in his arms as they sat in the tub, his limbs relaxed in the warm water.

"Where are you going?" he asked when she climbed out of the bath.  
She smiled before kissing his pouted lips. "I have to prepare supper and serve it," she said before wrapping a towel around herself.  
"Where is Sage?" he asked as he climbed out after her. He took the towel from Lily before drying himself off and dropping it so he could press her bare body against his.

"She asked for the night off. Why, is there something you wished to do?" she asked smiling, running her hands over his chest.

"You looked over your records earlier, I could have had you all night," he said regretfully as he kissed her smiling lips. "I'll cook," he told her softly.  
"No, you already did so much work. Rest, I insist," she said kindly. The look in her eye softened even more when she saw the look in his; he opened his mouth to tell her but, as always, the words stuck in his throat. And yet she knew anyway. "I love you too," she said before kissing him.

There was nothing more he wanted than to have her then, to make her cry out his name from the force of her pleasure. Though they both got dressed and went to the dining hall to prepare supper. He cooked while she greeted the guests, bringing them drinks and asking about their days. He then washed what he used to cook as she served the meals, keeping the leftovers on a large plate as he cleaned the pans. It was well after dark when she started bringing in most of the plates the patrons had eaten off of.  
"Are they all out?" he asked when they had almost finished cleaning all the dishes.  
"Now they are," she said putting a few plates and glasses down. "I have one more spot to clear and that should be all." He finished washing and drying the dishes she brought and he moved to the door to find her.  
"Thorin," she said as she made to get to the kitchen, his arms wrapping around her waist as they were now so accustomed to doing, her hands carrying the last plate and mug, "there is someone here for you."  
He looked at her confused before looking up to see who was there for him. His arms slipped to his side out of surprise when he saw who it was. "Dwalin?"


	16. when you worry so much

_Kaia: I was very surprised to see your review, but very happy as well. For her not being pregnant, I could say all the technical anatomy reasons for why she didn't get pregnant (cause there are a few), but I'll just simply say she doesn't have his child in this story. (emphasis on the his)_

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Thorin asked as he sat across from Dwalin.

"Bringing you home," Dwalin told him, staring at him curiously. Thorin knew he had acted queer the year he had returned to the Blue Mountains, seeing his hands around Lily's waist had been all the proof Dwalin needed to know that Thorin was in love. "She's a pretty lil' thing."  
Thorin could do no more than nod as Dwalin took a gulp of his ale.

"Here you are, Mr. Dwalin," Lily said softly as she placed a plate before him.  
"Thank you lassie," Dwalin said nodding his head.

Thorin met Lily's wondering gaze, knowing she was far too intuitive to have not guessed Dwalin's purpose for being there. "I'll be there in a little while," he told her as quietly as he could, though after turning back to Dwalin once she left Thorin knew from the other dwarf's smile he'd heard. "Why are you here, Dwalin?" Thorin asked wearily, knowing this time would come though he wished it would have come later.

"You have been gone a year, you have kin worried," Dwalin answered as he shoveled more food in his mouth.  
Thorin sighed at the thought of his sister and her sons, of Balin – one of his oldest friends. "I can't leave just yet," Thorin admitted causing Dwalin to still in surprise. Thorin knew he was admitting his love for Lily, though he had never spoken the words; but he knew if he could stay, for even two weeks longer, that Lily would come with him. He knew she wouldn't leave as they were now – but given more time he could say he loved her, and those words passing from his lips would ensure her joining him.

"She's dying," Dwalin said somberly as he put his fork down.

Thorin felt his friend's words like a blow to chest. "She can't be," he whispered, he pleaded.  
"Aye," Dwalin nodded in sympathy. "She fell ill two months previous, she is already far gone."  
Thorin took Dwalin's plate, not caring that he had not finished, and brought it to the sink to clean it. "Are you in need of a room?" he asked without waiting for his answer. He went to Lily's study and recorded Dwalin's payment for a room before placing his shillings in her safe.

"Thorin, where do you sleep?" Dwalin called once Thorin made to leave him at his room.  
"We will make a late start tomorrow, possibly not until noon," was all Thorin could say.  
"You sleep with her," Dwalin said as he realized just how close Thorin had grown to Lily. "Do you love her?"

Thorin was quiet a long while, trying to make some word leave his mouth. "Aye," was what he said before leaving.  
"Thorin?" Lily asked when he walked into her room. "Is everything alright?"

He could hear from her voice her suspicions and it pained him to realize all that had gone wrong. "Say it," he ordered as he crawled in the bed beside her and held her in his arms.

"Thorin?"

"Please," he said interrupting her question, "just say that you love me."

His eyes fell shut when she cupped his face in her hands. "I love you," she said quietly before kissing him. "Tell me what happened," she demanded gently.  
"My sister is dying," he whispered against her neck as he buried his head in the crook of it.  
He felt her hands in his hair as she did all she could to soothe him, knowing he and Dis had been close. "You have to go to her," she told him and he nodded.

"My nephews," he said despaired, now they would be without both father and mother.

"You must be there for Fili and Kili," she said running her hands along his back, her words making him realize just how much of himself he had given to her. She cradled him against her for a long while, her hands soothing and calming. He felt the moment when she realized what he wasn't saying, her hands stilling and her body stiffening. "You won't come back."

…

"I need to ask you something," Thorin said when Sage opened her door.

"It isn't even dawn yet, Thorin," Sage grumbled irritably.  
Thorin had left Lily sound asleep, covered her up and rekindled the fire before leaving. "I am returning home," he said quietly as he stood outside of Lily's cousin's door.  
"What?" she asked still sleepy. "You're not leaving."  
"I am, I have to," he clarified. "Something has come up," a hard slap on his cheek silenced him.  
"You bastard," Sage growled, seething in anger. Thorin would have struck her in return, may possibly have wounded her, but he knew the reason Sage was angry and he knew he deserved it. "She loves you and you're just going to leave? Again!"  
Thorin nearly flinched from the accusing in her voice, almost as angry with himself as she was.  
"Why did you come here?" Sage asked, having calmed enough to realize he had wanted something.

"How do I get her to come with me?" he asked, revealing to Sage as well how much he loved Lily.  
"Thorin," Sage said distressed, "she won't leave."

"I know," he said hoarsely. "How do I make her?"

Sage looked at him with such pity, knowing there was no answer. "You can't."

…

"Here," Lily said handing him a large bundle of food for both him and Dwalin. She pulled away when his fingers brushed hers and it hurt him more than Sage's hand upon his cheek had.

"Lily," he said weakly as he grabbed her arm.  
"You can't stay," she told him. "Your sister, your nephews. Your _entire race_ needs you," she said throwing her hands up. "I cannot ask that you stay, I cannot ask for you to come back that isn't my place."

_But it is_, he thought, _it's no one's place but yours._ But as it was he could do no more than pull her to him, to hold her in his arms. "Come with me," he whispered against her cheek.  
Lily's eyes were wide with shock and tears as she looked at him. "I cannot."  
"Why? I could give you all you desire; a farm, animals, children. I can give you all of that," he said nearly begging her.

"Thorin," she said despaired.

"Come with me," he said again.  
"This is my family's inn, my _mother's_ inn. She died here, I can't just leave," she told him, it was why he knew she wouldn't. This was the place of her kin, this was her home. But he could see the doubt in her eyes, see that she did want to go with him. "I can't," she said shaking her head.

He nodded, the sliver of hope he had vanishing with her answer. She did not push him away, she did not refuse, she sighed as he pressed his lips against hers and opened her mouth against his tongue. He kissed her for a long few minutes, memorizing the feel of her against him knowing he would never find another to take her place. He felt her tears on his cheeks but he did not see them, even after he pulled away from her he turned his back so he would not see; so she would not see the tears shining in his own eyes though he would not dare let them fall.

"I won't wait for you," she said quietly, a sharp knife to his heart.

"I won't ask you to," he said in return, stabbing a knife in hers. He took the food she packed for him and Dwalin and made for the ponies his friend had brought for them. He did not allow himself to look back, to see the life he was leaving behind – the woman he had come to love. He sat atop his pony and he rode away, and left her behind.


	17. it makes me want to cry

_Guest: thank you so much for reviewing, I know what you mean I wanted to yell at Thorin too. _

_Hobbit Girl: thank you for reviewing, I'm glad to hear you like my story. I haven't fully developed Lily's character so I haven't thought of anything to base her on. Although I will say I do not know what AngelKanade is, to which I ask: is it good?_

* * *

Dis did not last much longer than two weeks when Thorin finally arrived back to the Blue Mountains, and he was left to comfort his nephews. Though Balin and Dwalin did their best to comfort him Thorin would not speak of Lily, he kept her a memory he would share with no one else; she was his, his alone. He steeled himself against the loss of his sister, against the loss of the woman he loved, he put back on the cloak of kingship and returned to his place as the King of Durin's Folk.

"Do you wish to speak of her?" Dwalin would ask each year on the day he'd left her.

It took Thorin longer each year to refuse, wanting nothing more than to see her, his memory of her fading with the years, but he always declined. He kept Lily close to his heart, afraid speaking of her would be relinquishing the picture he had kept of her, the love he continued to feel for her. It was not long after he left her that he could say the words aloud, and a few times he would get it in his mind to return to her inn; but he would look at his nephews, who were now held the last of Durin's line, and he couldn't.

_TA 2941 March – Twelve years later_

Thorin went to the front of the inn as quickly as he could, it having been too many years before he found it in him to return.  
"Sage," he called almost relieved to see a familiar face.

Sage turned her dark head around confused until she recognized him, and then her face was filled with absolute shock. "Thorin?"

"Where is she?" he asked, having not been able to find her. "Where's Lily?"

He waited for her answer with a patience he did not have, seeing first her raise her hand to her mouth and tears fill her eyes. "She isn't here," she whispered and his heart sank.

"Where is she?" he asked, dread filling him at the pained look in her eye.

"She left years ago."  
Thorin was left in an astounded despair. "When?"

Sage sighed and he could see the reluctance in her eyes. "A year after you left, she went to find you."

"She did not come to the Blue Mountains," he told her. He would have known if she had come there, he would not have let her leave. He saw the answer in Sage's eyes. "Why would she, she had always thought I would return home," he said mostly to himself, now knowing where she was.

"I am sorry," Sage said though he could not understand why. "A strange man spoke with her, he told her if she were to find you,"

"Then that is where I would be," he finished for her.

"You may stay for the night," Sage offered and he numbly agreed.  
He sat at the table she placed his mug of ale at and he wondered if he could by chance take the time to go after her; it had been eleven years since Lily had left, had loved him enough to leave her own home for him.

"Thorin Oakenshield," he heard a deep voice say from behind him.

"Who is asking?" Thorin replied gruffly, not wanting to be taken from his thoughts. He looked up to see a large man dressed all in gray with a kind and weathered face looking down at him.  
"I am Gandalf," the man answered sitting opposite him. "We have much to discuss, perhaps I should start with what your father wanted me to tell you."

_Late Autumn_

It had been less than a year since Thorin first met Gandalf, but it felt longer than that; he had almost perished twice on the quest already and the biggest danger was still to come. His Company of dwarves rested in the house the master of the Lake-town had graciously given them, and the townspeople had been most welcoming to Thorin; a king returned.

"Thorin," Dwalin called on the morning they ventured into the town.

Thorin turned at the sound of his friend's voice as he rushed towards him. "What is it, Dwalin?" Thorin asked, having wanted to search the town for Lily.  
"I found her," Dwalin said as he came to stand before him.

His heart nearly stopped at Dwalin's words, having waited for this moment since Sage had told him Lily was here. He followed blindly after Dwalin, searching every face for hers until he saw a flash of gold. She was older now, thirty; she had aged as most women do though she was still as beautiful as he remembered her if not more. Her hips had widened, her breasts were larger, she was taller though only slightly. Even from a distance he could see the joy on her face, the love and happiness the years had given her.

It was seeing those things that brought him up short. "Do you not want to see her?" Dwalin asked when he realized Thorin had stopped walking.

Thorin shook his head as he looked hard at Lily; he knew her well enough to know that something had given her happiness – something that was not him. His answer came in the form of a tall man, one who towered over her and offered her the comfort of his broad shoulders in a way Thorin, with his dwarf stature, was unable. He watched as Lily smiled up at the man, who's hair was dark as night, and as the man gave her only the smallest of smiles in return before leaning down to kiss her. Thorin stared appalled at the gravely serious man who he could see Lily loved, a man who was not him.

_I won't wait for you_, she had told him.

_I won't ask you to,_ he had told her. And she hadn't.


	18. fragile like the leaves come fall

_AnnabelleLousia: thank you very much for reviewing; and I will say this, your first thought was correct. And I cannot wait until I get to them meeting. _

_So this is how I'm going to do the next chapter as well, just going over the ways in which she loved Thorin over the year he stayed with her. And then I'll do what I had done with Thorin as I go over what happened after Thorin left. And I will lead up to who the man Thorin sees her with in the Lake-town. _

* * *

_TA 2926_

In truth she had not thought much of him on first sight; he had long dark hair and lovely blue eyes that a storm seemed to rage behind. Though she later noticed he was in fact very handsome; his look that of nobility, his mouth set in a grim line and then would split into something beautiful when he smiled. But at first she thought no more of him than any other guest, at least until desire clouded his face.

It was the way his eyes darkened as he stared at her with lust, with need; her face heated and she had hastily retreated from him. She had been the object of a man's affection before, but they did not have his dark nature – his piercing eyes.

It was those eyes, so blue and cold, that would pin her to a spot and leave her unable to move – hardly able to breathe. His want of her made something in her chest flutter, made her feel beautiful. She was an innkeeper's daughter, though she had a youthful face she was worth nothing; there would be no pretty sum for her hand.

And then there came his help, something no other guest had done. Though she would not admit it, she was grateful for his strength, for the relief from the labor. She would take the money he gave her mother to stay for the night and slip it in his bundle; something he never noticed, at least until after he left.

It pleased her in a way to refuse him, to see his desire for her grow each day she said no. But she could not deny she wanted him too – she wanted his mouth on hers, his hands firm around her waist, his skin burning hers as they lay entwined. He caused her to want things she never had before, and seeing that he wanted her too cause a fire to burn in her belly.

But it frustrated her when he ordered her, instead of asking. She knew he was nobility from the second time she saw him, from the regal air about him, from the way he seemed to expect things – that people would follow his commands, that they would not argue. Which was why the first time he asked her for something touched her in such a way she could not refuse him – for she could see he had not meant to hurt her.

It was only the truth that she had wanted him, wanted him in a way she shouldn't have; and yet when he pulled up her dress she let him. If she had been a whore, as he had thought, it would not have burned her so. But after he asked for her permission to continue she forgot the pain, the wrongness of her actions as his dark eyes so often made her do. She forgot all sense of modesty as he placed scorching kisses all along her body, his mouth and tongue touching her in a place no other had before. Her body had flushed from the sounds he evoked from her, sounding very much like the whore he assumed her to be. But she heard, and felt, the deep growl hearing her cries elicited from him and she cared no longer.

She became the whore she had not been before he came, seeing the disapproval and disgust in her mother's eyes once she realized the reason he always stayed a night longer. But it was too late; Thorin filled her with a dark longing, a need for him to have her, and he did. He bedded her most every day, sometimes more than once. He continued to help her in her duties, and after he would take her; most often he was gentle, though it was not what she preferred. She could not find anything she loved more than to hear his groaning and moaning, and growling of her name as he moved within her; as she pleased him.

She realized quickly that gentleness was not something he was used to, that a girl who had previously been innocent and untouched and therefore needed to be held and bedded and spoken to nicer was something entirely new to him. And what made her smile to herself was that she could see from the softening of his eyes and words that he enjoyed it.

He had not wanted her to treat him as a king, and so she didn't; but she loved hearing of the Blue Mountains and of his people, and even more of Erebor. She would lay against and listen to the deep rumble of his voice in his chest as he told her of his life, hearing the happiness he had once had and the sorrow that had befallen him and the anger and rage that taken root in him. She could hear the longing in his voice when he spoke of Erebor, and she enjoyed the smile it placed on his lips to tell him she thought he would see his home once more; and she believed it.

That was something else she loved – to lay her head on his chest and feel his arm around her as he held her close, to feel the coarse hair on his chest beneath her fingers as she ran them through its thickness, to feel the slight shiver her touch sent through him. It was in those moments he would give her parts of himself, and she in turn would give him parts of her. She knew him in a way no one else did, and that thought warmed her heart.

It was no shock that he was leaving, she had always known he wouldn't stay. And yet it hurt her, and even as she felt the pain stabbing her heart she knew she was foolish to ever think he would. Even though it would hurt, though it would do no more than make his leaving unbearable she returned to him that last night. She had straddled his waist and nearly tortured him with the slow rolling of her hips, holding his down so he could not buck against her. It was that he did not fight her small strength, that he let her leave him crying out and panting as his finish grew at an agonizingly slow rate that she knew he was unhappy with leaving too. It was knowing that, that hurt her the most. And in the end, after the waves of her own release ebbed away, she left him without a word.

Her mother could hardly stand to look at her, the proof of what she had done was evident in the silent way in which she went about duties once he had left.

"You fell in love with him," her mother said when she continued to move about solemnly.

"I did not mean to," Lily told her mother, feeling the tears she had kept at bay for the few weeks after he left burning her throat. It was then, seeing the tears in her eyes, that her mother understood; and with that understanding she took her daughter in her arms and held her.

It was not long after that when their village was raided and her mother was killed. And then Lily was left alone with nothing more than an inn she knew she could not handle on her own. The obvious answer had been her cousin Sage who only lived a day's ride away. It was a long few months of remembering what her mother had taught her about keeping with the inn's profits and expenses, of keeping track of the records. This then became her life: managing her family's inn, keeping alive the only home she had ever known – the home she had lived in when she lost both her parents. She would not marry well if she would marry at all, her no longer being a maiden was not something she could hide on her wedding night. All the dreams she had had of what her life could be, of the husband and children she could have had, of the happiness she could no longer have because that was a life she could now only dream of.

It was in that miserable state in which Thorin Oakenshield walked back into her life, it was then he changed everything. It was then he ruined her. And it was then he unknowingly led her to best thing she could ever imagine.


	19. red yellow gold, I love them all

_AnnabelleLousia: I'm very glad to hear that it being him makes you happy. It made me happy too, and I'm very excited to get to him. He'll make her very happy. But Thorin'll pop up every now and then, cause she did love him._

* * *

To say she was surprised to see him after he had left a year previous was an understatement; her heart had nearly ceased beating when she heard the sound of his voice. But it was nothing compared to what seeing his face again did to her; her heartbeat had set to racing and her face had flushed and the desire that had gone with him fluttered in her chest once more. Not to mention how fire had ignited in her veins at the way his breath bent around her name.

He was not much different than she remembered, maybe another strand of gray, though his face and figure looked mostly the same. And then there were his eyes, those hard blue eyes that left her quivering, that completely gave him away.

"Perhaps I have missed you," he had told her, and she could see he had. She could see from the way he leaned towards her, seeking out her warmth, could see it from how his eyes trailed over her completely as though he could hardly believe she was there.

She was surprised herself with how much she had missed him – there being many nights she had longed to feel the heat from his body against her bare skin as she laid against him, or his deep voice as he sang so beautifully. She also missed the way his hair, which nearly covered his entire body, prickled over her smooth skin. She had enjoyed the way the hair on his thighs scratched her own as she laid spread around him, the way he stretched and filled her leaving her empty when he pulled out.

She knew he would not stay, she would not allow herself that hope again only for him to ruin her with his leaving her. But she could not stop the flutter of joy at hearing he had no plans of leaving. She could also not help the way her body responded to his touch, the need he had placed within her too strong to overcome. She had almost forgotten the way his beard rubbed against her cheeks and jaw when she kissed him, the way his tongue wrapped around hers. But she would never forget the need she could feel in him as he moved within her, the need he gave her with each thrust.

It was almost a relief to have him take her after a year, having not realized how much her desire had built without a means of release; Thorin giving her exactly what she had come to need. Her breasts had missed attention from his hands and mouth, the way he would take a peak between his teeth and sucked. Her legs wrapped high around his waist, her hips moving meet his as he thrusted firm and deep. And then there was the way he made her moan, loud and wanton; and then there were his own, flooding her with a burning passion as she heard how much he was enjoying her.

She waited for the day he told her he was leaving but as the days turned to weeks, and then the weeks turned to months, and he still stayed. But as the months passed the busy seasons came leaving her to sit in her study for hours after she had wanted to go to bed. The days she stayed awake the longest were the ones before and after she would trade with the next town; which Thorin had refused to let her go alone. It was on those nights Thorin would please her with his mouth, something she had come to love; something she knew he did too. She knew he enjoyed leaving her helpless to do anything but moan beneath his tongue. But she also knew it left him nothing to do but return to an empty bed and please himself; she had gone to her room to retrieve something and saw him sprawled on the bed with his pants down and his hand wrapped himself. He hadn't looked embarrassed when he felt her come to stand beside the bed, he hadn't even stopped his hand's quick strokes. He stared up at her nearly pleading for her to climb on top of him, and so she had. She had placed her hands firm on his hips and rode him until he was nearly yelling.

It had scared her, terrified her even. From the moment she turned to see a man who wasn't Thorin her heart had lept in fear. But it wasn't feeling his foreign, unwanted hands pawing at her, tearing the front of her dress. It wasn't his hand sharp on her cheek so hard it took her off her feet, it wasn't even feeling him straddle her waist. It was the helplessness she felt as he strangled her, as she struggled to breathe but was unable to – it was that this man she did not know would be the last face she saw as he killed her. And then suddenly she could breathe again, and looking up she saw it was Thorin. Relief, so strong it almost hurt, flooded through her as he saved her. She had coaxed him out of killing the man, knowing the fact that his anger at her being hurt was so great meant that he cared for her.

It had taken a long few weeks before she could not bare another day in her room, though she had enjoyed the way Thorin cared for her; seeing in his eyes she meant more to him than he was willing to admit. As the months continued to pass she began to see he loved her, seeing it in his actions and the way he would hold her, but the words never passed from his lips. Not even after she told him, and he asked her to say those words often. What saddened her the most was the many times he would come so close to saying it and was still unable, knowing he was not ready to give her that part of him yet.

That was the reason she did not go with him, though there was nothing she wanted more. She could hear him saying he loved her when he begged her to come with him, offering her the life she had told him she wanted. She could hear and see that he loved her, but what she needed was for him to say it – to say those words, sealing her to him. But he didn't, he couldn't, and so she couldn't. How could she possibly leave her home – the place she had been when she had lost both of her parents – the place her mother had left to her? How could she leave all of that for a man who could not even say he loved her?

The answer was simple: she couldn't.


	20. I guess it's just the way we love

_One year later_

"You should go after him," Sage told Lily, as she did often, especially when she saw her cousin sad.

Lily did no more than sigh as she sat staring down at the inn's records, seeing they were doing better than they had in years. She hated herself every time she thought of him, having known the moment Thorin Oakenshield had walked back into her life that he would not stay; and yet she had let herself love him. And so now her entire body ached with need for him, craved for him to stand at her side and stare at her with those blue eyes. Lily shook her head to clear thoughts of him from her head. "I cannot," she said softly.

"I could take up the inn for you," Sage offered, seeing it in her cousin's eyes that she missed the dwarf. "You can return any time, it will still be yours. You won't have to lose it." She said all of this knowing it was what Lily was afraid of and why she would not go to Thorin.

"Sage," Lily sighed, having already told herself she could not leave – if she hadn't left with Thorin then she could not leave with him now. She ran a hand over her face, rubbing her now swollen eyes. "I have work to do."

Sage stared down at Lily before she shook her head and left closing the door, thinking her cousin more stubborn than was good for her. She had just taken a step down the hall when she heard Lily's weeping, realizing this was destroying her. In that moment Sage hated Thorin Oakenshield, she hoped he was destroying himself as much as Lily was, only tenfold. If it had not been for Thorin's own stubborness he would never have left, at least that was what Sage thought.

_The next night_

"Would you like a mug of ale?" Sage asked the older man when he sat.

"Wine if you have any," he requested politely, removing his gray hat.

"I'll see if we have any," Sage said not thinking they did, but Lily would get on to her as though she were a child if she was not just as polite.

"Would a dwarf happened to have stayed in your inn a little more than a year ago?" Gandalf asked before she left.

Sage's eyes narrowed as she thought whether she knew the man. "Would this dwarf happen to have dark hair?"

The man smiled at her. "Yes he would," he answered. "So this was the inn he kept his visit."

Sage's eyes hardened. "Thorin Oakenshield has done enough in this inn," she told him firmly. "Now, I will go see about that wine."

Sage returned a few minutes later, having not found Lily to ask her nor the wine, with a mug of ale and a plate of food. She returned to the man's table to find him speaking quietly with Lily.

"Thank you my dear," the man said when she set his plate in front of him.

"That will be all," Lily said looking up sternly at her cousin, knowing she had not been polite. She turned back to the gray-haired man and asked; "Why is it you are looking for Thorin?"

The man looked at her amusedly, wondering in what way she knew the dwarf king to call him only by his first name. "I have word from his father that I wish to give him."

"You spoke with Thrain?" Lily asked shocked, Thorin having told her his father had been missing for years.

The man too was shocked. "How do you know Thorin Oakenshield?" he asked curiously, though he saw her mouth turn down into a frown.

"He stayed for many months," she answered without saying more, though it was not needed – her love for Thorin was written plainly on her face.

"Do you know when he will return?" the man asked gently.

Lily shook her head. "He will not," she answered, and again said no more.

"You love him," he said softly, seeing the pain of that deep in her eyes.

Lily sat across from the aged man without saying anything, and the man too stared at her wondering why she did not leave with Thorin. "Would you follow after him now?"

Lily looked at the man in surprise, wondering how he had guessed her plight so easily – wondering if it was written so clearly in her eyes. "I couldn't," she said looking down at the table.

"Would you know where to find him if you could?" he asked, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

Lily looked up at him with her brows furrowed. "He returned to the Blue Mountains," she told him.

The man smiled wider. "Is that where you would expect to find him?"

"No," she whispered, them both knowing it was the truth; Thorin would return to his home. "He would be in Erebor."

"That he would," the man said in agreement, seeing she truly did know Thorin.

Lily stared at the man, who was dressed in a gray cloak, wondering if leaving could be so easy. "He is not there now."

"No," the man said shaking his head, "but he will be. The question is, would you like to be waiting for him?"

That was a question Lily had a hard time answering, and it took a few more minutes before the man could coax an answer out of her. "The mountain is taken by the dragon Smaug," Lily said.

"There is a town near the mountain, and it is my belief Thorin will pass through on his way to reclaim his home."

Lily could not deny that, Thorin had told her of Dale and how the people had relocated to a further town from the Mountain. "I have no way of getting there," she said, still trying to convince herself she could not leave.

"Would you still refuse if I told you there were a group of people who were traveling to the Lake-town?" the man asked seeing the uncertainty and the desire in her eyes.

Lily could not give him an answer for some time, and by then Sage had cleaned the kitchen and all the guests retired to their rooms. And yet the man sat patiently waiting as Lily tried and failed to continue to refuse. "How could I say no?"

The man smiled at her, knowing that for her to know so much of Thorin meant that he had loved her greatly in return. "You will leave on the next morn," he told her.

Lily stood collecting his mug and turned to take it to the kitchen. "Wait," she said turning back around to see the man on his feet. "What did you say your name was?"

"I am Gandalf."

And as in many things Gandalf was right about all he told her, the lake-town was where she would see Thorin again. But as in many things Gandalf did not know all, and so Lily had gone to the town and waited for thirteen years; only Lily had fallen in love with another, and Thorin Oakenshield was little more than memory.

* * *

_I am very sorry for the wait, I kind of lost interest in the face of other stories. However I am now on a break (unfortunately) from the one I am working on now, so I am picking up stories I have put down; like this one. So next chapter will be Lily in Lake-town, and she meets her husband Bard. I will say, that the number of reviews does effect how fast I update; so if you are still interested please leave me a review. _


	21. I will hide out in your space

_Guest: thank you very much. I quite like Bard myself, though that's probably the actor. I hope you continue to like it._

* * *

It had been a long trip, a weary one. Many a time Lily had let herself wonder if Thorin Oakenshield was worth the trouble he caused, but when she thought of him the answer was always yes. Her heart had been nearly broken to say goodbye to her family's inn, she had almost changed her mind then. But Sage had refused.

"Two years," Sage had made her swear. "If there is no reason for you to remain in the town after two years then simply come back."

"What if it takes him three years?" Lily had asked, wondering just how long she would wait for him.

Sage had thought silently for a few moments before she answered. "Perhaps Thorin will not be the reason you stay," she offered.

Lily had only sighed and shook her head. "I do not think I could love any one in that short a time," she said, her voice showing her defeat.

"You loved him in a year," Sage said placing a hand on her cousin's shoulder. "Perhaps there is a man who would love you all his days without once ever hurting you. Give it two years."

It was a nice thought, though every time Lily tried to picture someone other than Thorin it always ended up being his face she saw. And so she left.

There were twelve she traveled with, most of them men though there were three women besides herself. Many of the men were returning to their wives in the Laketown, three were traveling with their wives, and a small few had no attachments. One of those men, an older fellow who had just recently lost his wife to an illness, spoke of a woman named Rose who had been looking for help at her tavern for years.

"She's finicky that one," the man warned. "But as luck would have it I stayed in your inn and can put in a good word for ya, I think she'd like you."

"I thank you kindly," Lily said with a small smile. And she was very thankful, because a little more than a year later and they arrived in the Laketown and Lily was given a place to stay.

Rose had proven to be finicky alright, she hounded Lily the moment she caught sight of her. "Look at that hair," she tsked. "Such a curled mess. You will wear it up when you work. And do not fiddle with your hands, it makes you look scared."

Lily had dropped her hands instantly, standing upright and staring expectantly at the woman. She had maybe seen forty years, her brown hair starting to gray. In truth she did scare Lily, though that was because if Rose did not like her than Lily would have no where else to stay until she found another means of work.

…

"What is that?" Rose demanded when Lily came to the kitchen to help prepare breakfast. "That is the worst braid I have ever seen. Did your mother not teach you how to do your hair?"

"She always did it for me," Lily said quietly.

Rose gave her a searching look before she pointed to the chair nearest her. Lily gasped in surprised pain when Rose first ran the brush through her hair, having no need for gentleness she roughly pulled through the tangles. "Well it is time you do your hair yourself," Rose said as she continued brushing. "Your mother is not here to do your hair and I will not have you looking a mess."

Lily sat quietly as Rose began braiding, having always enjoyed her mother running her fingers through her hair – though her mother had been far more gentle and Lily's scalp had hardly stung as it did then.

"There," Rose said when she'd finished, inspecting Lily's face. There where still many loose strands of curls that would not stay in the braid framing her pretty face, but it was good enough. "What is with your dress?" she demanded at seeing the old fabric. "Does your mother not make you any?"

"My mother is dead," Lily said softly, fiddling with her fingers again.

Rose looked at the young woman. "Your father?" she asked. She nodded when the girl said nothing. She honestly did not know what she was supposed to do with a young woman who had no parents. "I suppose more must be made for you," Rose said, her voice only slightly gentler. "Ones that are more flattering."

Lily looked down at herself wondering what was wrong with her dress. It was true that it was old, but it still fit. "What do you mean?"

Rose cocked a brow. "One that shows your hips," she answered coming to stand behind Lily and pulling on the back of her dress to tighten it. "You have a lovely figure," she mused as she looked over Lily's shoulder to see the more pronounced shape of both her hips and her breasts. "Men would eat here if only to look upon you."

Lily could feel the fire in her cheeks, her mother had refused Lily wear anything remotely revealing in the way it covered her. "No one needs to see my hips," she said fixing her dress so it masked them. "Or my breasts."

Rose smiled at the flustered way Lily righted herself. As much as she didn't want to admit she thought she might like the young woman. "I will measure you before bed," she told Lily wagging a finger. "No fuss."

Lily nodded reluctantly before making her way to the kitchen. She set about gathering what they needed to make the day's first meal when she heard;  
"Take it to the kitchen."  
Lily looked up at the sound of footsteps to see a man with dark hair and dirty clothes walking with a deer slung on his shoulder. "Here," she said making a spot on a counter for him to place it.

"Do you know how to prepare it?" Rose called from the main hall where she swept.

"Yes," Lily called back. "You leave enough fat to make it juicy when you cook it." Lily was pleased when Rose called back good.

She grabbed a hatchet and set about removing the legs and head. It had always been her least favorite part in preparing animals, she just wasn't strong enough to cut through bone in one stroke; usually leaving her to saw through it, making her tire. It was something Thorin had done for her; an ache tore through her heart at the thought of him.

She looked up surprised when the man placed his hand over hers and took the hatchet from her, staring into his brown eyes. He moved to stand in front of the deer before he pulled the legs and brought the blade down, slicing it clean through.

"Thank you," she said when he'd finished. He did not smile, he did not say anything. Instead he gave her a small nod, staring straight into her eyes, before handing her the hatchet.

She took it, ensuring her hand did not touch his and began the process of removing the deer's hide. Her hands bloodied quickly, working them under the skin so she could pull. She knew he was still behind her, she could smell him – he reeked of outside and blood, not an entirely unpleasant smell though it was very strong.

His eyes were glued to her, wondering who she was for he had never seen her. She was pretty, very much so, but she was sad. Not many woman could do what she was doing, tearing an animal apart; scooping out its still warm innards and putting them aside, all without wincing or gagging. In fact, she hardly seemed bothered by it.

"Here you are," Rose said holding out the shillings for his deer.

He cast a last look at the blonde woman, meeting her blue eyes when she looked up at him, before leaving.

"Who was that?" Lily asked when he'd left.

"Bard," Rose answered simply, hovering over Lily's shoulder to expect her work. "Not too bad," she told her, seeing the small upturn of Lily's mouth. "I will have to make you another dress," Rose said when she saw how bloody the bottom of Lily's sleeves were even though she had rolled them.

"I have more," Lily said in a sad defense.

"Do any of them show you are a woman?" she asked making Lily nearly blush. "Honestly," Rose muttered looking her over, her dress looked like a box concealing everything girlish about her. "How you will find a man in a dress like that."

Lily smiled in spite of herself, though she was not looking for a man – she was looking for a dwarf. But she said nothing, instead she continued cutting up a deer thinking of how Thorin had not minded her dresses.


	22. emptiness on my face, I'll

_Guest: thanks for reviewing. I was so glad to finally get to Bard, I've been waiting for it. And I really hope to do him justice, but a grim man is very hard to write. She is very much still in love with Thorin, and she might always be; but her heart can love more than one man, it's just she might start loving Thorin less._

* * *

Bard came to Rose's tavern once a week with a fresh kill, which Lily was always awake to prepare. Rose had deemed Lily competent enough to handle this task without her there; "It would do me good to sleep more in my old age," had been Rose's excuse. But in truth the older woman was trying to push Bard into speaking with the young woman, who he was so obviously interested in getting to know.

Lily honestly had no idea of Rose's plan, though even if she did she wouldn't have believed her. Bard was not a man of many words. In fact, he hardly spoke to Lily at all. Be it his grim personality, or shyness at speaking with someone as pretty as her. He tried though, pitifully.

"It's going to rain today," he said after he'd cut the legs and head off the pig he'd killed – it was an agreement he and Rose had, she wouldn't kill the animal only prepare it.

"It did feel like it might," Lily had responded, her hands scooping innards. "The grass looks like it needs it."

Bard had stood behind her and nodded, watching as she wiped her bloodied hands on her apron. He appraised her messy hair, seeing she had only thrown her hair back at such an early hour in the morn. It suited her though, to have small curls escaping around her neck. He wanted to wrap one around his finger, feel how soft it was. It was usually when his thoughts strayed there that he cleared his throat and bid her a good day.

But there were days when Lily gave him no choice but to answer her. She found him endearing, thinking him shy. "How long have you been helping Rose?" she asked one day he brought her another deer.

"Ten years," he answered with a shrug.

"Is she a friend of the family?" she asked as she cut the hide from the deer. She looked over her shoulder to see him looking at her questioningly. "Is that why you've been helping her so long?" She knew almost immediately that she had asked something she should not have.

His face had clouded and grown more serious, his entire demeanor growing stiffer.

"I'm sorry," she said trying to repair the conversation. "I should not have,"

"No," he said silencing her, shaking his head. He looked at her, his brownish green eyes serious and sad. He offered her a shrug. "Maybe another time."

That had been the first time Lily had truly realized there was more to Bard than just a quiet man. There was a sadness in his eyes, as though he carried the world on his shoulders. He was very serious, too serious she thought. But she found that he gave a quiet comfort when he stood in the kitchen as she prepared whatever game he brought.

…

"Hello."

Lily turned from where she was bent to harvest vegetables to see Bard standing a little ways behind her. "Hello Bard," she greeted in return. "How has the day seen you?"

He shrugged before he answered; "It's seen me well."

Her brow raised at his short reply. "Is there nothing more?" she asked.

He shrugged again, something she found to be sweet. "Nothing worth telling," he admitted.

Lily stood, dusting her hands off on her apron. "You should have someone to tell your day to," she commented, remembering how much she enjoyed having Thorin to speak with of her day – something he told her he'd enjoyed listening to.

Bard looked at her almost shyly. "I stayed my post as I do everyday," he answered quietly and she smiled at him encouragingly, so he continued. "There was no trouble so it was an easy day," he said finishing with another shrug.

She bit back a smile, something she often did when she spoke with him. "That's good," she told him and he nodded seeming pleased she'd thought so. "I'm just harvesting for supper."

He looked to see a sack half filled of vegetables. "Do you need help?" he offered softly, the nerve almost leaving him before he even asked.

"Well," she started, readying to refuse. It was something Thorin had done, helping her with chores – something she did not wish to share with anyone. But looking at Bard's face as he stood nearly shuffling his feet, stilling the words on her tongue. She looked down at her sack and then at her hands, which were wringing themselves as they often did when she was nervous. "I would love some," she said so softly he had to ask her again – which made him smile, though it was only a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth but she saw it all the same.

...

She didn't notice it at first. Her thoughts were too centered on Thorin and the fire he burned her with; how could she think of anyone other than Thorin Oakenshield, he had taken everything from her and still she gave him more.

But after a year in the town, when her thoughts circled to Thorin as they always did before bed, she realized the pain was lessening. Thoughts of Thorin and his hard blue eyes, eyes that made her quiver just as much as his hands and mouth did – well, they did not scorch her as they had when she first arrived in the Laketown. And so she wondered why that was; if she had accepted that she would never again see him (a thought that still made pain course through her), or if she was slowly numbing towards his absence.

Either thought made her toss and turn restlessly, thoughts of Thorin beginning to overwhelm her. The only answer she had ever arrived at was a handsome dark haired man with a grim face shrugging.


	23. be keeping you safe when you're cold and

_Guest: thank you very much. I am really enjoying writing Bard, cause I just feel like he'd be so sweet; you know, under all that grimness. Thorin will always have a place in her heart, it's just Bard might start taking up most of the space - and in that she really won't hurt so much. But that won't happen yet, she still a little time._

* * *

"Hello Lily," Bard greeted as he sat in the field beside her. It had taken most of his nerve to walk to her, in fact he almost hadn't. But she was sitting in a field alone picking at a flower, and so he'd sat with her. His brows drew to together in alarm when he saw her wipe her cheek quickly. "Lily?"

"I'm alright," she said sniffing, brushing aside his concerns.

"That is not true," he said quietly, looking at her as she kept her head turned away from him.

Lily knew he would not simply leave it at that, he was too kind to leave her sad. "No it is not," she said in soft agreement.

Bard wanted to take her hand his hand, but he did not have the nerve for that. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

She was quiet a moment before she answered. "It's silly," she said at last.

"It's making you sad," Bard said and she turned to him, "it is not silly."

She looked at him, seeing his kind brown eyes staring intently at her face; she found herself wanting to tell him, something she was not sure if she liked. "It is my name day."

He looked at her surprised. That is not a thing to be sad about, is what he almost said. But then he realized she was upset because she had no one to share it with; something he found sad as well. "What happened?" he asked.

It was her turn to shrug, for there were so many things. "Our village was raided a few years ago, my mother was killed," she said softly, for that had been the reason she cried for all of her name days since – though Thorin had been there for one of them and he'd soothed her sadness away. He was another reason she was sad, the one that made her feel the most foolish.

Bard fought with himself, wanting to do something for her – but too much of a coward to lift his hand and touch her. "You're father?" was all he ended up doing, which he knew was not enough.

"He died when I was young," Lily said passively, so used to explaining it that it hardly hurt her anymore.

He looked closely at her, seeing that is not what had saddened her. "What is it that upset you?" he asked surprising her that he could see through her so well.

She turned away from him again, suddenly not wanting to speak of this anymore. He sat patiently at her side waiting until she could form words. "A man," she said so softly he almost did not hear it, and he was surprised at the sharp pain he felt when he realized what she'd said.

"You are in love" he said quietly realizing that of course she was, why would a woman as lovely as she not have another.

She shrugged, something that confused him. "With a dwarf," she admitted. "It sounds strange I know," she looking up at him briefly.

It did sound strange, and Bard stared at her sad and baffled. "Is that why you came here?" he asked her, still caring for her more than he knew he should. "To find him?"

Lily shook her head, now honestly not knowing why she had come to the Laketown. "If I would find him anywhere it would be here, that is what a man named Gandalf convinced me of."

"Why would you find him here?" he asked, no longer wanting to talk about this anymore, but finding himself needing to know.

She sighed wearily. "Because he would come here."

"You do not sound hopeful," he stated, realizing he could hear in her voice that she had given up.

Lily could do no more than shake her head, wondering if she had. "I've been here a year," she said looking up at him. "What hope do I have to hold on to?"

Bard looked at her, seeing her begin to start tearing another flower apart. He opened his mouth to speak but he could not make the words leave his tongue. It was a long few moments before he could finally say anything. "Perhaps he is not the reason you were brought here," he nearly whispered.

Lily plucked the last petal off the flower before rolling it into a ball and tossing it aside. "Then who was I brought here for?" she asked looking at him.

It was a question he did not have an answer to; well, his answer was him, but he could not tell her that. "Perhaps someone new," was all he could manage to say.

Lily looked up at him, seeing his brown green eyes and his handsome face. He was kind, so incredibly kind. "Perhaps," she agreed staring at him, giving him a faint smile.

He wanted 'someone new' to be him, but he had no way of telling her that; and so he decided he needed to show her – anyone who would leave her in tears was not worthy of her. He plucked a small white flower and placed it in her hair. He felt a smile twitch on his mouth at the slight of a blush on her cheeks as she looked down. It was seeing the flush of her face that had him thinking he was off to a good start.

…

Lily was oblivious to Bard's plan, though his presence was noticed for he visited often everyday. It came to be that Lily expected to see Bard daily, something she grew to greatly enjoy. He did not ask of the dwarf she loved, he did not even mention it; instead he spoke of other things.

It surprised her that he spoke more, though it still endeared her how shy he was about it. He told her of his day and asked of hers, he introduced her to many of the people in the town. And within six months Lily knew almost everyone and they knew her – it was almost starting to feel like a home.

…

"Thank you," Lily said before she went about preparing the pig, Bard having severed the head and legs as he always did.

He leaned against a counter to the side of her and stood watching her work. He had come to figure that she was never more beautiful than she was in that moment, smiling at him as she cut into a slab of meat. "It is a pleasure," he told her softly, growing more confident in how he spoke with her – for in truth he had begun flirting. And just as she always did, she smiled and looked down blushing.

Bard left of course, to stand guard at his post. It was in the moments that Bard was not with her that Thorin clouded her thoughts. At first Lily had felt ashamed, feeling as though she were doing Thorin wrong; but somehow those feelings evaporated. The more Bard came around the less Lily thought of Thorin, something she hardly recognized. When she did think of Thorin it was in passing, and it did not leave her feeling so raw as it had before. In fact, it hardly hurt her at all; for the image she had in her mind of Thorin had begun to morph into Bard.

...

"Here."

Lily looked at the flower that was being given to her and she turned around to see Bard giving her a small smile. "Thank you," she said smiling sweetly, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. "What is this?" It was a dark red, its petals each curled inward, the center of it looking like a blooming red bud.

"I am not sure," Bard answered honestly. "I did not think I had given one of these, so I got it for you."

She felt a warmth spread in her cheeks; before he would have left it at 'I am not sure', now he specifically told her he'd gotten it for her.

"I will put it with the others," she said looking down at the strangely beautiful flower. She had taken up collecting flowers, pressing them in a blank drawing book and putting the dates when she'd gotten them – when Bard had given them to her.

She retrieved the book and flipped through the pages, looking at all the pressed flowers on the pages, before placing the flower in between two pages and closing it, placing a weight on it to press it down. When she stepped back she turned to see Bard watching her with a small smile gracing his mouth. She stopped in front of front of him and stared up at him.

He looked down at her bright blue eyes, her sweet face. He raised a timid hand and brushed a curl out of her face, his fingers brushing her cheek.

It was the feel of him touching her, in face of everything, that had her raising herself on her toes and pressing her lips against his. The moment their mouths met she realized she should not have done that, and as quickly as she had kissed him she pulled away. "I'm sorry," she said breathlessly, a hand pressed to her mouth.

"Lily," he started, seeing the tears in her eyes, but she pushed past him and left. He stared after her desperately, wishing she had stayed. It was not so much a kiss as it was their lips brushing and then she'd pulled away – but it meant everything to him. And in no way would he ever regret it; for you see, he was already in love with her.


	24. alone til you come out and play

_Guest: thanks, I'm so glad you liked it. I'm really loving writing Bard, he's just too great; and I love writing him with Lily. _

* * *

She needed time. It was something Bard knew and reluctantly gave her. He saw her when he brought fresh game and when he dined for supper. It hurt that she barely spoke to him, barely looked at him; but he knew she was grieving a love that she hadn't known had died. She was hurting, because she cared for him, but she still loved the dwarf. And that hurt him.

She was being unfair, she knew that. It was no fault of Bard's, it was her foolish heart; but it was Bard who was being punished. It was a fact she hated herself for. But what could she do? She had come to the Laketown to wait for Thorin, no matter the feelings she had for Bard.

"The feelings I have," she muttered to herself, burying her face in her hands as she tried not to cry.

"What is it that despairs you so?" Rose asked coming into the kitchen to hear Lily sniffing, her blue eyes red rimmed and sad.

Lily looked up at her, unable to hold her gaze. "I am a fool," Lily said miserably. "I came here for love," she said in answer to Rose's questioning gaze.

"But now you love Bard," Rose said surprising her. Rose held her hand up when Lily opened her mouth to refuse, silencing the young woman. "Did he tell you why he has been helping me all these years?" Rose asked and waited until Lily shook her head. "He and my son had been close. They caused havoc," she said with a smile.

Lily could hardly imagine a young Bard, let alone a Bard who was mischievous.

"There was an accident," Rose said sadly, all mirth gone. "My son worked on the river, he drowned."

Lily stood looking at Rose's grievous face, feeling sadness for the woman who had welcomed her into her home. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh no, dear," she said brushing aside Lily's sympathy. "You've had your own share of loss."

Lily waited until Rose composed herself, wishing she could do something but there was nothing; Lily knew that all too well.

"So you see," Rose said after a few moments, "I do not think you can help loving him." Rose smiled at Lily, seeing the refusal the hesitation and the knowing in her blue eyes. "You could wait for the man you came here for the rest of your days, but never would you find a man as willing to love you as Bard. He would be good to you, make you happy. I think that is what you are so afraid of." She could still see the hesitation shining bright in the young woman and she sighed, realizing she would need more time – and maybe a little push.

…

"You need to talk to her," Rose insisted fervently as she paced the now closed tavern.

"She does not wish to speak to me," Bard told her wearily, sitting on a bench with his head on his hand.

Rose nearly huffed at Lily's stubbornness. "She just does not realize she loves you," she said, being stubborn herself.

Bard sighed. "Or perhaps she truly loves him," he answered making Rose stop pacing.

"If she loved him she would never have grown to care for you," she told him. "Besides, he left her. She deserves to move on." Though her words had a final air about them, the tone of her voice did not.

"I do not think she is ready," Bard said staring at the floor, wondering if he could feel this hurt for much longer. "And I do not know how much longer I can wait."

Rose looked at the younger man surprised. "Tell me you have not fallen in love with her," she demanded.

"That is not," he started but she interrupted him.

"Tell me you have not fallen in love with her." She waited for him to answer, and his silence proved to her that he loved Lily too – only he knew it. "Go tell her that."

"You make it sound so simple," he said frustrated. "I am not good with words."

"Then don't use words," Rose told him, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet. "You are going to lose her if you do nothing, of that I can assure you."

Bard looked down at Rose, seeing the woman who had been a mother to him most of his life, and he sighed.

…

"Who is it?" Lily called when a knock sounded on the door.

"Bard."

She nearly gasped, having not expected him to come to her room. She stood by the door a moment before opening it, seeing his shy face on the other side. "Hello."

He did not answer her, he stood nearly shuffling his feet as he looked down at her; wondering how he was supposed to tell her of his feelings without words. And then he knew. Her lips were as sweet as he remembered, though he held his against hers longer than she had allowed the first time. He felt her melt into his embrace, her lips mold to his own; heat flooded through him at the feel of her pressed against him, feeling that she did in fact feel the same as him.

It took her longer to realize the mistake of her actions than the first, realizing she had wanted this. "Bard," she said no louder than a breath, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

"Do you not care for me?" he asked confused, hurt, and angry.

"That isn't," she tried but he interrupted her.

"Then what is?" he asked looking down at her. "Please just answer me that."

She opened her mouth but hesitated a moment – remembering that moment she had admitted she felt something close to love for Bard. "I love hi-"

"I know you love him," he told her. "I know you do. But can you not love me?"

She looked at him in utter shock, hearing the words he did not speak – he loved her. "You don't understand," she told him weakly.

"Then help me to," he pleaded with her.

She looked away from, feeling the same shame she felt when she'd done it. "I gave him everything," she told Bard, knowing he would look at her differently when he understood what that meant.

It took a moment before he did, and his eyes widened slightly in shock when he understood that she had given the dwarf her maidenhood.

She saw the look in his eyes, the slight disgust that had been in her mother's though his was gone in an instant. "You should not want me," she told him, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Lily," he said sadly, seeing how low she thought of herself. Hatred for the dwarf filled him; not only had he left Lily, who so obviously loved him more than he deserved, he had stolen her innocence and the love she had for herself.

"Please leave," she whispered, her throat thick and her cheeks now wet.

She raised a small hand when he stepped closer, keeping him from reaching for her; and so he left her as she requested, but his heart remained with her.

…

It was no more than three months later that a small group gathered to go to Bree, and Lily would go with them – her two years were up, there was no reason for her to stay. Thorin was not there, and remaining would only hurt her. And Bard, and that was something she would not do. So she would leave.

Rose had not been pleased, and she had outright yelled at Bard for allowing it; but there was defeat on both Bard and Lily's faces, so Rose knew it was not easy for either of them. And she was right, it was nearly destroying Bard for he had allowed himself to dream of a life with Lily – a beautiful dream full of only happiness and love – but Lily did not deem herself worthy, even if she did want that dream as much as he did.

It was two nights before they would leave and Lily was gathering her things, what little they amounted to. She was sad to leave Rose, a woman who had taken the place of mother for her. She was sad to leave the town, with the people she had come to know; it had been a home for two years, one she wished to keep. And she was sad to leave Bard, a man she could have loved if she'd allowed herself to. But there was nothing she could do.

When a knock sounded on the door she did not ask who it was before she answered, that was how miserable her state was. Instead she stood and crossed the small room before unlatching the wooden bar and greeted Bard in surprise. She did not ask him why he was there, she did not say a word. Instead she looked down to see the small blue flower in his hand, one he had never given her before.

"I love you," he said softly, breaking his heart with each word.

She held the flower in her hand and she looked at him with shocked eyes, feeling the tears welling in them. It was something she had longed so much for Thorin to tell her, something he had not been able to do – the reason she had not gone with him to the Blue Mountains. And now here she was, holding a flower, with a man she was trying not to love and he said the only words she had ever wanted to hear.

"No matter your past," he told her, staring hard at her. "I love you."

The first tear fell when he turned on his heel and walked away – knowing she would not decide immediately whether his love was worth staying – and then the dam broke and she was sobbing.

She did not remember closing the door, or getting ready for bed, or actually getting into the bed. And she certainly did not remember falling asleep. But the next thing she remembered was waking up in her underclothes on top of the covers, the blue flower glaring at her on the nightstand.

She grabbed the drawing book she kept all the flowers in, knowing she would never leave it behind, and she slowly began looking through them all. She picked up a quill and a bottle of ink and she spent the next hour writing exactly what Bard had done or said beside each flower; "Perhaps he is not the reason you were brought here," she wrote by the first, she wrote how red he had blushed by the second. And so on and so forth. She wrote when he flirted, she wrote how he effected her. And on the last one, a small blue flower not yet pressed, she wrote the words "I love you," and then she wrote that she loved him too.

…

Bard stood at the sound of the fervent knocking, hearing the desperation in how fast they came. "Lily," he said when he opened the door to see her curly hair loose wearing nothing more than her underdress. He was speechless, completely and utterly speechless at the state she was in.

"Say it again," she begged softly, staring at him with her blue eyes wide and desperate. "Say it again."

"I love you." There was no hesitation, no moment of second guessing; he opened his mouth and the words fell from his tongue.

It was all she needed, those words being all she had ever wanted. She grabbed the lapels on his shirt and brought his mouth to hers, kissing him as she been craving all along. And that was her answer - as she stood barely clothed with their mouths molded together – she would stay, and the only reason was Bard.

* * *

Next chapter will be things such as marriage, their first time (after their married). And then I'll jump into Hobbit time, which I'm excited for. Thank you all for reading.


	25. here i am i don't wanna come out

They were wed five months later. Nearly everyone in the town had come, Bard having grown up there and nearly everyone liking Lily's kind nature – and all of them happy the two were together. She had been beautiful in her white dress, which Rose had slaved over for four and a half months, more beautiful than Bard had thought imaginable. He had been nervous the night before, but seeing her as Rose led her toward him anything other than joy left him. It had been one of the first times he'd truly smiled; when they were pronounced husband and wife.

She herself had been nervous as most women were, but she loved him. What she did not love was waiting – she never had. But he did not make it easy; he'd kiss her in ways that had her nearly begging. But he was adamant they would be wed before they laid together, and so he continued to tease her – knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her (for he himself sometimes wanted to give in).

And so there they were, five months later, standing in what was now _their_ home completely nude in front of each other for the first time. Lily may not have been a maiden but she most certainly felt like one; as did Bard though he had never been with a woman. She reached for him, her fingertips soft on his chest, and that was all it took for him to pull her to him; a hand wound in her hair the other around her back, their mouths moving desperately together.

Their sounds were loud, harsh in the quiet home, as they laid together for the first time as husband and wife. She felt so small beneath him, his body completely covering hers and weighing her down; he enveloped her. She kept her hands around his hips, pulling him closer, pacing him slower; and all the while he groaned in her ear, and she mewled in his.

She had never known such joy, such love, as she did then; his arms cradling her, his hips bucking, her name a heavy moan against her throat. She loved him. In that moment and the rest of her life, there was nothing – no one – she would ever love more. Or so she thought.

Little more than a year after they were wed, Lily gave birth to their son Bain. "He looks like you," she said as she stared down at her son. And he did, even as a newborn his dark hair was a mess – like Bard's.

Bard smoothed the hair off her forehead, kissing her gently. "He has your eyes," he mumbled against her cheek, feeling her smile.

She cupped his face in her hand. "I love you," she said softly, lifting her chin to meet his lips.

It never stopped leaving him breathless to hear her say that, seeing just how much she did in her bright blue eyes. He kissed her over and over, giving her all he had, and never would he ever regret loving her. She was worth all the patience in the world, all the understanding and time he'd given her. He pressed a tiny little flower in a new drawing book – for the other book she said was complete - putting it on the page after the one he'd given her when she told him she was with child.

He would have stopped giving her flowers only that she loved them so much. There was a small smile she would get as she pressed the flower; writing the circumstance for which he'd given them. This book started with the flowers from their wedding.

Beside this day's flower he wrote the date of Bain's birth. He turned to the bed to ask if she wanted him to write anything else to see her holding Bain in the crook of her arm, both fast asleep. He smiled before turning to a new page and sketching the two of them.

She stirred only slightly when he laid beside her, and he pulled her to his chest, stroking their son's cheek as he slept in her arms. He looked to his wife next, seeing her beautiful sleeping face, and thinking he couldn't love her more. He was happy, truly and utterly happy; and for the second time, as he pressed a kiss against her cheek, he smiled.

...

_eleven years later_

Lily carried her basket in the crook of her arm, walking away from the market with the food she would make for a few night's dinners. Bain was practising sword fighting with the other boys and Bard was at his post with the town's archers - which he was the leader of, and had been for seven years. She would visit Rose before she started on dinner, she thought. For Bard had told her he would not make her work, she was his wife and he would take care of her; and she missed spending time with Rose.

"Lily," he called when she walked past. He watched as she turned, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth as it always did. Shock marred her features, her eyes widened and her lips parted as she gasped.

"Thorin?"

* * *

_The importance of this chapter is obviously her and Bard getting married and having their son. But also that Thorin wasn't mentioned in the beginning of this chapter; but that's not to say she doesn't think about him from time to time. Only now Thorin is a memory that she thinks she'll never see again. But next chapter they do, and I can't wait.  
I'm going on a plane today, and I really don't like flying. So if it wouldn't be too much to ask, please leave me some reviews. It would really make my day.  
_


	26. numb to the bone I don't wanna come out

He hated her. In that moment, when she turned towards his voice happily – easily as though this were her home – Thorin hated her. He could see she was shocked at seeing him, could see it in the way she could not catch her breath as she stared wide eyed at him. He hated her.

"There was a feast for the king returned, did you not hear about it?" he asked dangerously, his eyes blackened by his anger, but mostly by his hurt.

That had been the source of the yells, she realized. Thorin had returned for his kingdom as she had always known he would.

"The years have treated you well, Lily," he said stepping toward her, seeing the wary look in her eye, knowing she knew him enough to know he was beyond rage. "Will you come to the feast tonight?"

She shook her head, trying to make words leave her tongue. "I have a household to run," was her pitiful answer.

"For you and your husband," he said spitting the word husband, realizing from the look on her face that she was in fact wed to the dark haired man. The look in her eye changed though, her eyes grew sadder – almost ashamed – and she opened her mouth to speak before she was interrupted.

"Mother."

Thorin looked behind Lily to see a boy of perhaps ten coming to stand at her side. He did not look like her, his hair dark and wild, his face that of his father's. But his eyes were her; he had her bright blue eyes filled with warmth and yearning for life.

"Take this home, I will be there shortly," she said handing her son the basket of food.

"Mother, who is,"

"Do as I say, Bain," she said sternly, though Thorin could see how upset she really was. Bain could too, he knew his mother too well not to.

"Yes ma'am," he said taking the basket and reaching up to kiss her cheek.

Lily slowly turned back to Thorin to see him watching her son walk away, shock and pain and fury written all over his face.

She did not wait for him – that was the thought running through his mind. She must have married within three years after he'd left.

"Thorin," she said softly.

He felt her speaking his name like a dagger in his heart; she was not his. Not anymore. "How dare you?" he asked her, nearly whispering in his hurting.

"Thorin," she said again, feeling the tears gathering in her eyes.

"I waited for you," he said louder, his voice now showing his barely constrained anger, "for thirteen years."

She nearly winced at his tone, at his voice which was filled with such desperate nonunderstanding that she could not look at him.

"I did not look at another woman. I _loved_ you for thirteen years, and I come to find this?" If he had been anyone else, anyone not Thorin Oakenshield, he would have realized he was being cruel to stop the threat of tears – but crying was so foreign to him he did not realize.

The fact that Thorin had just said he loved her, after waiting for it for so long, was completely lost on her. Instead she looked up at him outraged. "No right do you have to say that I did not love you," she told him crossly, fighting back her own tears. "That I _love_ you. I came here for you."

"I am not the reason why you are here," he hissed, the proof being in her son. He knew he'd overstepped, that he had insulted her by insinuating she had not loved him; he didn't care.

"I came here for you," she told him again, her voice firmer.

He looked at her, seeing her hair was longer and darker, her breasts were rounder, her hips wider, her face softer and happy; the only thing about her that had not changed were her eyes, and it ignited something in him to know the love and joy in her eyes was aimed at another. "I am not the reason you stayed," he told her quietly.

She nearly deflated at that, for it was nothing but the truth. She'd stayed for Bard, because he loved her, because she loved him. Thorin had not been apart of that decision, he hadn't been apart of her life from the moment she chose Bard. But he had stayed with her in her heart, where he would remain always. So why couldn't he see that?

There were so many things he wanted to say to her, things that would hurt her as much as he was hurting. He could call her a whore, tell her she would never find someone to love her as fiercely as he had and that she should have loved him enough to see that he did in fact love her. But he didn't say those things, how could he? He loved her. Instead he took a step back, hardening himself toward her as he should have done years ago. "You should go," he said dismissing her, seeing the hurt in her eyes before she masked it.

After thirteen years he brushed her aside as though she did not matter to him, and that hurt her more than his words ever could have. The difference between their pain was that Lily had moved on – she was hurt, but she had Bard. And in truth she loved him more than she ever had Thorin. But Thorin did not have another, he was alone in his pain. Alone to drown in the memories of a young woman who had once meant everything to him.

* * *

_So their first meeting did not go very well. But I'll say this, it won't be their last. Lily and Thorin will talk and she will show him that she hadn't meant to fall for Bard, and Thorin's reaction may not be what you expect. Since he is fiery and passionate, and holds grudges. Thank you all very much for reviewing, my flights sucked so your reviews did actually mean a lot. So thanks._


	27. here I am, I don't wanna come out

_Towards the end of the chapter Lily gets a little flustered, and frustrated, and worried - and basically she's a little hysterical. Now the scene has a serious note, however it's kind of funny. If you see it the way I did it's pretty hilarious. I just wanted to warn you before hand. _

_Guest: thanks for reviewing. You're right, they can't all be happy - and Lily won't fully be happy either no matter what. _  
PS: thank you, I'm glad you liked it.

* * *

Lily listened to Bain's grunts and yells as he practiced his sword fighting outside as she prepared dinner in the kitchen. It had taken a long while before she could make her hands stop shaking, but that did nothing for her soul. She felt as though her world had been turned upside down, and all because of Thorin Oakenshield.

_Why now? _she wanted to ask, to scream at him. She was happy – with her husband and her son – why was he now back in her life. Why when she no longer needed him. Where had he been when she had cried at night, where was he when she had first come here; before she loved Bard, before Bard loved her?

She knew the moment Bard returned from his post, her son had quieted and she heard low murmurings she could not catch. She stirred the vegetables in the pot, Bard's footsteps pounding on the floor as he walked to her.

She took a breath when he wrapped his arms around her, what felt like the first time she'd breathed since she saw Thorin. That's what her husband did, he shielded her, made it easier to breathe. "How was your day?" she asked him, leaning her cheek against his as he held her from behind.

"It was a fine day," he answered, kissing her cheek and squeezing her. "How was yours?"

She did not answer for a moment, in truth she did not really knowing what to say. "I have seen better days," she answered truthfully.

Bard sighed, breathing in the smell of her. "Bain tells me a dwarf upset you today," he told her making her sigh, realizing they would have to talk about it sooner or later. "He is worried the dwarf said something to offend you."

In spite of herself she smiled slightly, her son did love her so. But there was also the threat of tears, which he saw when she looked up at him. She did not say anything, instead she turned back to the stew without a word. He didn't know what that meant, he had an idea – one he did not like – and so he unwound his arms from around her middle and pulled away.

Her hand on his arm stilled him. He could feel her breathing against his chest, feeling it was labored and knowing she was fighting tears. He held her tighter, knowing now that was all she wanted; she just wanted him to hold her.

Bain came a little while later to see bowls on the table and his mother and father kissing. This was the moment he was supposed groan unhappily, disgusted by the sight; but his mother _had _been upset earlier, and he wondered if perhaps this was her way of getting better. So he did what any child would, he sat at the table grabbed a bowl and filled it with stew before he started eating. He kept his back to them so he would not see. And when he had finished his parents were sitting at the table talking quietly as they ate, and that settled it – all was well.

…

Lily did not see Thorin for a week, something she had considered a blessing for she couldn't think of a single thing to say. How was she supposed to tell him that she did not love him as she had; that he was no more than a memory that brought her more pain than joy? How was she supposed to explain why it was Bard she loved? These were the thoughts that plagued her when she moved through the town, knowing from the gossip that the dwarves were being housed and cared for.

But just because she did not see Thorin didn't mean he did not see her. He saw her everyday; when she went to the market, when she visited a friend, when she went to watch Bain practice, when she visited her husband at his post. The more he saw her the more he noticed things – Bain looked more like her than he'd first appeared, for one. He had her smile, it's sweetness and warmth same as her eyes. He began to notice that her husband's face was very placid, but there was a slight upturn to his mouth when Lily was at his side. All of this he noticed – but what he saw the most, what hurt him the most, was to see the way Bard loved her. It was the kind of love he knew Lily had wanted, the kind he himself could not give her. And she in turn loved her husband, just as he loved her – a way she hadn't loved Thorin. All of this he saw, and all of this he felt like a sword through the heart.

"Lily," he hailed her one day when she walked near alone. He could see from the stiffness of her spine that she now recognized his voice.

"Thorin," she said stepping closer. "I do not have much time for conversation." In truth she did not want a confrontation, which is what they had when last they spoke. She did not have it in her to be angry with him, that wasn't what she wanted.

"I will not take but a moment," he told her standing before her, looking in his new clothes the king that he was. "Answer me one question and I will leave you to your life."

She stood surprised as she stared at him, feeling almost offended. "Only one question?" she asked, thinking he thought her worth more than that – knowing she thought him worth more than that.

"Only one," he told her nodding. "I will see that you are happy, that you have the life you wanted. Show me you are well, and I will let you be."

She shifted the basket in her arms, looking away from him as she felt tears warming her throat. Now she realized he thought her more than only a question – he thought her worth a lifetime of happiness, even if it was not with him. And that hurt her more.

He waited until she looked back at him and nodded before he asked. "Why him?" He waited, and waited, and waited for what felt like hours and yet she said nothing. She stared at him with her wide blue eyes, and he could see she was thinking – was searching for the answer. But no word left her mouth. She had no answer, as he suspected.

"Lily."

They both turned to see Bard walking toward them. It wasn't even a conscious thought for her, she saw her husband and walked to him. She did not look back at Thorin, she did not bid him good day. She simply turned on her heel and walked to Bard, who wrapped an arm around her back and led her away – casting a dark look at the dwarf before he did.

"What did he say?" Bard asked when they returned home, thankful Bain was with Rose so he would not see his mother like this.

She was crying now, and she honestly did not know why. "He said if he saw I was happy then he would go," she said, her voice strained with her tears.

Bard looked at her waiting for more, thinking their had to be more, but she said nothing else. "Alright," he said slowly. "So why are you crying?" He knew the moment he finished that was the wrong thing to ask, her chin quivered and her hands fluttered.

"I don't know," she said pitifully, crying even harder.

"Alright, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he said pulling her into her arms, smoothing her hair as she tried to stop. He heard her sniffing grow less and loosened his hold on her, moving so he could see her face.

"I don't know what to say to him," she said softly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

He brushed her hands aside and finished with his sleeve thinking her passion was one of the reasons he so loved her – and she certainly was passionate at the moment, a little too much. "What does he want you to say?" he asked gently.

"He asked why you," she told him, thinking herself horrid for not being able to think of something to say.

"Alright," he said, his brows drawing together. "That's simple," he said with a small smile. "Why me?"

Her breathing shallowed and her hands started fluttering again. "I don't know," she said crying all over again.

And then he understood, she didn't know why she loved him; and that alarmed him. He did not pull her into his arms, he did not comfort her. He stood watching as she pulled herself together, yet again, and then as she spoke.

"I mean, if there was one thing," she sniffed and wiped a tear, "that could just explain it all," she sniffed heavily, her tears audible in her breathing, "that I could just give him."

It were as though a light flashed in her mind, and then she realized how foolish she was. "Of course," she said brushing away the rest of her tears, sniffing a last time. "Of course that's the answer."

"What is?" he asked having no idea what his wife was talking about.

"I have something," she said as she moved through their house, ruffling through things as she searched for something. "I can give it to him, and it will show why I stayed with you."

"Oh," Bard said reasonably, though that was not at all how he felt – in fact, he felt a little hurt. "You have a single item that shows our love?" He was about to start yelling, that was how angry he was becoming – he had thought the dwarf was behind them, she had never mentioned him again. It had been almost eleven years, and now she was placing the span of their love into one object.

The anger left him completely when he saw what she was holding. It was the first book she'd filled with his flowers – the one she had deemed complete when she decided to stay. And then he laughed – relieved, but a laugh all the same – for she was right, it did show their love.

He pulled her to him then, kissing her in a way he saved for when they laid together. He held her so tight that when she wrapped her arms around his neck the book stayed between their chests. She was choosing him – in the face of Thorin returning to her life, she was choosing him.

He released her, grabbing the small journal and placing it in her hands. "I am coming with you."


	28. I've been dead and I wanna come out

_Guest: I know, I feel for her the most - besides that she's my character. _

_PS: it certainly isn't, he honestly not very nice. But yeah, I love him too._

* * *

Lily loved her husband. She loved him more than anything, save her son, but that did not mean she wanted him to accompany her to speak with Thorin. Now she not only had to look Thorin in the eye and give him the very thing that would break his heart, but she had to do it with her husband's heavy eyes on her – to say the least, it was nerve wracking.

Bard did not touch her, he did not offer comfort – he knew her enough to know it would distress her more. He also knew she did not want it. There were moments when she wanted nothing more than to let him hold her, to seek refuge in the strength of his arms as he enveloped her – this was not that time. This was the time when he loved her the most, when she wanted to stand on her own two feet because any amount of weakness was unbearable. Sometimes he didn't think it was possible to love anyone more than he loved her.

She took a steadying breath before tentatively knocking on the door of the dwarves' temporary residence. Two dwarves were at the door and she was struck by the similarities between them and Thorin.

They looked at the pretty woman and the serious looking dark haired man behind her, wondering what the two wanted. "Kili," the dark haired dwarf greeted finally, bowing low,

"And Fili," greeted the blonde as he too bowed. "At your service," they finished together.

She smiled at them, curtsying. "Lily at yours."

The dwarves looked at the woman's husband. "Bard," he said with a nod of his head.

"I am here to see Thorin," she told the two, who looked at each other before looking back at her and Bard preparing to refuse.

"Let her in," a deep voice ordered and the two stepped aside.

Lily looked past the two dwarves that resembled Thorin to see a large dwarf she knew. "Mister Dwalin," she said, her voice as sweet as it had been thirteen years ago when she'd first met him.

"You remember my name?" he asked giving her a brief half smile before looking at the stoic man behind her – who he now knew was her husband, and the father of her son.

"Of course I remember your name," she told him. She didn't know how she could forget it; he had been the one to take Thorin from her all those year ago.

Dwalin gave her a small nod before beckoning for her and her husband to follow, offering the man no greeting or courtesy. He knocked on a door at the back of house.

"Enter," a deep voice grumbled.

For the third time in a week Lily was brought face to face with Thorin Oakenshield, something she had never thought to do again – only now her heart did not skip a beat, her breath was not stolen, her body not flushed from his nearness – he did not effect her as he used to.

He disregarded the map he had previously been charting a path on, and smiled when he saw her, thinking she had come back to him – why else would she specifically seek him out. His smile fell and his eyes turned cold when he saw her husband behind her. "Lily," he greeted and turned hard eyes on the man she had married.

"Bard," Bard greeted without an ounce of warmth. He offered no, "at your service," nor a "pleased to meet you," there was no courtesy; this was not a pleasant meeting for the two for Lily was the object of both men's desires, and only one of them could have her. What Thorin did not know was that she had already made her choice, and what might have surprised both men was that her choice was not a conscious thought – for Lily, it hadn't really been a choice at all.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you again?" he asked, his eyes trained on Lily, nearly scorching her with their heat.

Bard stood scowling behind her, seeing the desire written plainly on the dwarf's face. Lily had admitted to him that she was no maiden, months before he had admitted his love – that was no surprise. The surprise came from the fact that he was seeing it first hand, and how angry it made him to look at the dwarf. No sympathy did he feel towards Thorin Oakenshield, in no way did he wish him well – not when the dwarf was staring at Lily as though she were still his.

She could feel Bard at her back, feel from how tense he was that he was angry. She took a shaky breath, gripping the drawing book in her hands. "I have come to give you your answer," she told him softly, seeing the surprise in his eyes.

Thorin had known when he saw Bard that Lily was not coming back to him, in truth he had known the moment he discovered she not only a wife but a mother that all hope was foolish. And so he stood looking at Lily, seeing the sadness in her eyes as she looked at him, seeing the fury in Bard's eyes as he glowered at him, seeing the book in her hands, seeing hope had been hopeless.

She placed the book in his hands, his fingers brushing against her – feeling not even a spark of passion in her heart – seeing in his eyes that he had hardened himself. All she could do was hope that he would understand. She left him then, knowing he did not want her stay – that he may not even look through the book – it wasn't until she outside the house that she realized Bard had not followed after her.

He stood staring down the dwarf king, not caring in the slightest who he was. "If you hurt her again, I will kill you," he warned dangerously.

"I am a king," Thorin growled enraged.

"I don't care who are," Bard told him, silencing Thorin by his audacity. "She is my wife, not yours. Look through that and you will know," he said motioning to the book in Thorin's hand, leaving Thorin with a last burning look.

Thorin could not believe the nerve of the man, he was a king. He slammed the book on the table, his hands aching to make fists. His mouth was twitching from the deepness of his scowl, his breathing infuriated. _He_ was infuriated. He flipped to the first page of the book to see a pressed small white flower, and he stared at it with furrowed brows.

Beside the flower was written in Lily's hand, _"Perhaps he is not the reason you were brought here." I asked him who I was brought here for if not Thorin and he answered someone new. It seemed so simple, he said it so easily. I wish I could believe him. I wish someone knew could be a man like him. He is kind, and compassionate, and I dare say the sweetest man I have ever met. He is a good man. _

_If I am to be honest, I wish Thorin were here. I miss him, and I hurt in his absence. I don't know how much more my heart can take. Sometimes I think I am a fool for ever thinking I could ever find him again. _

Thorin's anger had all but disappeared. He could hear her voice speaking in his mind, hear the sadness he knew he had put there. Even in the face of Bard's kindness she mourned the loss of him, and he was surprised by how hurt he was to see she was in pain. He could not stop himself, he needed to know more, he turned the page.

_He said it reminded him of me, of my eyes. He'd blushed so red. He truly is such a sweet man. I wonder what it is he thinks when he picks them – if it would be too arrogant to believe he may think of me. _

There was no mention of Thorin in that one, and as he flipped through more pages he noticed his name grow less and less – as well as her worry for doing Thorin wrong. He did not read them all, though they were mostly the same.

_It is so sweet when he blushes. _

_He said it was pretty, but it did not hold a flame to my beauty. _

_He tucked it in my hair, and touched my cheek. His touch was like lightening coursing through me. _

_My heart lept at the timid smile that graced his lips. _

_I could not keep myself from blushing at his words, at the look in his eye. _

On and on it went, the more he flipped the more flowers he stumbled upon. He did not look at the flowers, they were not important. It was the words, her words that he clung to – each one driving the sword deeper in his chest.

He came to a page with hastily written words, water marks from her tears, a small blue flower pressed in the center of the page.

_He loves me. He said he loved me, no matter my past. How can I possibly leave now? I don't even know if I love him. I want to, more than anything. It should not be this hard, I should not worry so. He is a good man, a kind man who does not care what I have done. He loves me. And I love him. _

He knew from the ink dot beside the word him that she had not realized what she had been writing – he could picture her sitting staring at her words with tears streaming down her face, a laugh escaping her lips as she wrote the next lines.

_I love him. I love Bard._

Thorin sat back feeling uneasy, feeling hurt and jaded; feeling as though she had literally just ripped his heart out, was squeezing it before him. He had just watched her fall in love, with a man that was not him – a man Thorin now saw was better than him.

He sat breathing deeply, trying to swallow the knot in his throat. Realizing Bard was the better man for her, that Bard loved her in way that he himself hadn't been able to, had not been easy. In fact, Thorin had sat hating the dark haired man, hating Lily for loving him. But he couldn't for long. It was clear that she had been grieving a love lost and dead, that much he knew. But Bard had loved her, and in doing so he had healed her – and he could not hate either one of them for it.

He knew why she chose Bard, it was simple – he loved her. That was all she ever wanted. And everything else about him – his kindness and warmth, his patience and understanding – well, that's why she loved him.

It would break his heart, he knew it would. And yet he turned the page for more, expecting another flower and more notes. But there weren't any, for he had reached the end of that book. Instead there was a letter addressed to him in Lily's hand.

* * *

_So next chapter is going to be really short. All it will be is Lily's letter to Thorin - I thought I at least owed them that. _


	29. letters are gonna fall from the sky

_Thorin, _

_I knew you loved me, I suppose I should tell you that. You could never say it but I could see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch. What hurt me more that not hearing you say you loved me, was when you tried to and never could. I think it scared me, and it made me wonder if you could ever love more than some of me. Did you ever guess that is why I did not go with to the Blue Mountains, because I was afraid? _

_I love him. I do not mean to hurt you by saying that, but you should know it was not easy. It hurt me to let you go. I loved you. I don't know if you still know that, but I loved you. But maybe I only loved some of you, and maybe not enough. Or maybe I loved you so much that I could not bear being without you, and so I let you go. All I know is I love him, I love all of him. The whole town was at our wedding. Does it seem odd to you that people could have stood so happy at a wedding that was not yours and mine? It did to me. _

_I know you will not understand, I know you think I have forgotten you, that you think you are nothing to me. You're wrong. I knew I would miss you. But the surprising thing is, you never left me. I never forgot a thing. Every kind of love it seems, is the only one. It doesn't happen twice. And I never expected that you could have a broken heart and love with it too. Love so much that it does not seem broken at all. _

_You wanted to see that I was happy. If you have gone through the flowers and are reading this then you know that I am. This is the life that I wanted, the man that I wanted. I know it seems cruel to say that to you but I am not trying to hurt you. I want you to see that the first time I was unhappy since I was wed, was when I saw you. I hope you understand that is because I love you still. I honestly do not if I could ever stop. I need you to know that I did not love him to hurt you. I loved him for me. You left me broken, and loving him made me feel as though I could be whole again. I know you will go to Erebor, slay the dragon, reclaim your homeland. I know you will do all of that, and I hope that at some point you will think on my kindly as I do you. I wish you all the luck in the world Thorin Oakenshield. _


	30. call my name cause I wanna come out

Lily had just gathered what she would make for supper, Bain was with Bard as her husband stood at his post – she had never seen Bain so excited as when Bard said he would teach Bain the ropes of his division. She placed the vegetables by the stove and grabbed her cloak to get the meat from the shed. She was stopped short as she pulled on her cloak by a knock on the front door.

"Thorin?" she asked surprised when she opened the door. He was the holding the book in his hands. It had been almost a week since she had given it to him, and she wondered if he had finally read it. The look on his face when he finally looked up at her was all the proof she needed to know he had – only she did not know he had read it everyday since she'd given it to him, comparing her love for Bard from the book to the love she had for him in the letter. "Would you like to come inside?" she asked after a chilled breeze made her shiver.

He nodded before stepping into the house, all the proof he needed that she was happy was in her warm home. There were her things, Bard's things, Bain's things; it was a home, like the one that had been taken from him. "You are happy," he said, no question in his voice. He was thankful she did not speak, he did not know how he could walk away from her but it was easier when she said nothing. He placed the book on the table, almost reluctant to let it go. "He loves you."

She turned away from him and grabbed a knife as she prepared dinner, not able to look at him any more.

He knew she was trying not to cry, he knew her too well. And so he stood behind her watching as she moved. "I wanted to hate you," he admitted softly, watching her hands still before she started back again. "I at least wanted to hate him. But there was no one to blame, no one but myself."

She turned to him then, wiping her hands on her apron. "Thorin," she said, not wanting him to blame himself. He hadn't been ready to say he loved her thirteen year ago, and she wasn't able to wait. It was her fault. She would have said that but he held up a hand silencing her.

It took a moment before he could speak, her voice speaking his name too painful. "I do not blame you for loving him," he told her. He looked down at the book, having memorized her words. "I would have."

She looked at him shocked, holding a hand to her chest as she fought the tears. Never had she imagined him to admit anything of the sort; that he understood why it was Bard she had chosen.

He was silent for a long while, trying to hold the memory of being near her as long as he could. But he knew he had to leave, he did not think he could bear seeing her with Bard any longer. "We leave on the morn," he told her softly. "I wanted to return this to you."

She nodded, clenching her jaw as she tried not to cry. This was it, the last time she would see Thorin Oakenshield. He was leaving to slay a dragon and reclaim his homeland, and somehow they were leaving on good terms.

"I only assume I can keep your letter," he said gently, knowing her enough to know they were not just tears of sadness, even though she was happy with Bard his presence in the town made her hurt.

She gave a small laugh and nodded. "Of course you can."

She didn't move when he stepped forward, she stood with her back against the counter and her hand still held over her heart. She wasn't expecting it, which is what gave him the courage to step even closer and pull her toward him. She was shocked motionless at the feel of his lips on hers. It was nothing as their kisses had been, full of passion and heat. This was one was one of goodbye, for Thorin did not think he would ever see her again.

That was where Bard found her, holding a hand to her chest leaning against a counter. Her eyes were wide though her tears had dried, and Thorin had left an hour previous. He saw the book on the table and turned and walked back out the door. "Bain, ask Rose if we can eat with her. We haven't seen her lately and your mother is not feeling well."

"Is she alright?" Bain asked now worried, for his mother always felt well.

"Fine," Bard answered, "please go ask Rose." Bard did not go back inside until Bain had said "yes father," and had run the way of the tavern.

"What happened?" he asked, taking her arms in his hands and looking at her closely.

She looked up at him, feeling the threat of tears though she had no more left to cry; her eyes were completely dry. "He told me he could see I was happy, that you loved me," she said smiling slightly. "And then he said goodbye."

Bard's brows furrowed, knowing there was more. And so he waited for she had never been able to keep anything from him. All he had to do was wait, and she'd tell him herself.

It took hardly more than a minute for her to speak again. "He kissed me," she said so softly he almost didn't hear her.

He didn't know what to feel, he couldn't read the emotion in her eyes. He felt dread creep into his heart and he couldn't help but wonder if he was losing a part of her.

She looked up at him, barely seeing him as she thought. But she threw her hands up. "There was nothing," she admitted leaving him confused. "I felt nothing, after thirteen years."

He could see she was as confused as him, though now he understood.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked looking up at him.

It was really only a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth, but she saw it anyways. "Because I know why," he told her, stepping even closer so she had to arch her neck to see his face.

She opened her mouth to ask him why and he took that moment to grab the back of her head and pull her mouth to his. There was barely a moment of hesitation before she melted into him. He had her sitting on the counter, her legs spread around him, pulling her further against him as their tongues danced.

"Oh," she breathed when he pulled away, feeling warmth buzzing through her body. "I guess that's why."

"Come on," he said pulling off the counter. "We're eating with Rose tonight."

He helped her into her coat and they made their way out the door, seeing Bain walking toward the house. Bard bent down and kissed her once more. "I love you," he mumbled against her lips.

A small smile graced her lips as she looked up at him. "And I love you."

…

_A week and a half later_

Bain had gone from his sword practice to his father's post where he was being taught how to man one himself. His mother was right, he had never been more excited for anything in his life than to have his father treat him as a man. The two were walking when they heard;

"Look! The lights again. Something is happening up there."

Bard looked to see a guard pointing at the flashing of lights in the direction of the Lonely Mountain, and he wondered how the dwarf was fairing the dragon.

"Perhaps the King under the Mountain is forging gold," said another guard. "It is long since he went North."

"Which king?" Bard asked with a grim voice. "That looks more the marauding fire of the dragon, the only king under the mountain we have ever known."

"You are always foreboding gloomy things," said the other guards who were now uneasy.

Bard had already placed his hand on Bain's shoulder and was leading him away when the next great light appeared much closer – giving them all the proof they needed that it was the dragon.

Bard ran as quick as could to the master of the town, warning him. "Cut the bridges! To arms! To arms!" he yelled before running back to his post.

The dragon was thwarted when he reached the laketown to see it drifting like an island in deep water. The lake was mightier than he, it would quench him before he could pass through. And so the dragon decided to set the town ablaze, and he flew over it not caring for their arrows which merely bounced off his scales and gold armor, and he opened his great jaws and let loose flame on the town.

"Father!" Bain screamed pointing at a burning building a distance away.

Bard loosed an arrow, seeing it did nothing, before turning to his son and then to where Bain pointed. And he received the most chilling of sights; the tavern was burning. And Lily was there.

"We have to get her," Bain pleaded, tears streaming down his face as he thought of his mother in that burning place.

"We have to stay here," Bard said gravely, wanting nothing more than to go to her, but their duty was here. "We must defeat dragon," he said to Bain's protests. "It matters not if mother is alive and the dragon not dead." He did not believe that, nothing in the world – not even a dragon – could make him believe having her safe did not matter. But it was the truth.

Bard turned back to the dragon and notched another arrow, aiming for the beast which let loose more fire, and then released his arrow. He turned back to his son, only Bain was not there. "Bain!" he called looking around wildly. "Bain!" But his son was nowhere to be found.


	31. here I am and I wanna come out

_PS: hope this flowed the way you wanted it to.  
_

_Guest: Yeah that cliffhanger was pretty mean. And I'm glad you see that Bard was the only choice she could make._

* * *

Bain had run in the direction of the tavern, leaving his father to duty so he could find his mother. The closer he got to the tavern the thicker the smoke grew, choking him, and the flames grew hotter. But it did not stop him, he needed to find his mother; and he needed her alive.

"Mother?" he yelled coughing, pulling his shirt over his nose. "Mother!"

He found her many feet from the tavern laying on her belly. She didn't wake when he rolled her over, she didn't wake when he shook her and called for her and begged her to wake up, tears streaming down his face. He dragged her away from the tavern, which was now burned to the ground. He pulled and dragged until they were near water, only a small amount of smoke surrounding him. It was then, planning to splash water on her face, that he noticed blood on the side of her head. It scared him to see it all in her hair, covering the side of her face; there was so much blood.

He cried as he cupped water in his hand and cleaned it off, seeing something had hit her where her hairline began.

"Bain?" she croaked when she opened her eyes, her head hurting so awful it was nearly blinding. But it was him, it was her son. "Bain," she said relieved, tears filling her eyes.

"Mama," he cried and laid his head against her chest, letting her soothe him.

She stroked his hair as she held him, looking up at the sky to see the dragon flying over again. "It's alright," she said softly in his ear. "Where's your father?"

"He's at his post," Bain said looking up at her. "He said he had to stay."

"I know," Lily soothed, wiping the tears from his cheeks. "He swore an oath, he wouldn't be your father if he did not keep it," she explained, pulling Bain up and looking for a place for them to go.

"Not even for you?" Bain asked with his arms wrapped around her waist.

She held him tighter when the dragon spewed flame once more at the town, and she pushed him toward the river realizing that was their only means of escape. "Not even for me," she said trying to keep him calm. "What difference would it make if I was alright when the dragon still lives."

"That's what father said," Bain told her, stepping into the cold water, holding his mother's hand as she climbed in. He wondered if perhaps it was true, that having to make choices like that was what it meant to be a man. But as he stood holding his mother's hand tight in his own, he didn't know if he ever wanted to be a man.

"Come this way," Lily called to those standing near. "We must swim to the other side and gather with the others." Her voice was calm and firm, not showing how afraid she really was.

And there they stood, mother and son, waiting for Bard. They helped many of the towns people out of the lake, men and women, children and even animals. And still he did not come. The dragon took no noticed of those on the bank, his attention lay solely on the town. What they did not see for they were not close enough to see, was a single arrow fly straight into the dragon's only vulnerable spot in his golden armor, felling the great beast. And they watched in horror, for Bard was still at his post, as the dragon breathed its last breath over the town, crushing it.

Bain looked to his mother, looked for comfort, but he found none. She stood with a hand to her mouth and tears in her eyes as she stared at what was left of the town, of all the people that were dead. Of her husband.

…

They gathered in mournful crowds upon the western shore, shivering in the cold wind, and their first complaints and anger were against the Master, who had left the town so soon while some were still willing to defend it.

"He may have a good head for business – especially his own business," some murmured, "but he is no good when anything serious happens!" And they praised the courage of Bard and his last mighty shot. "If only he had not been killed," they all said," we would make him a king. Bard the Dragon-shooter of the line of Girion! Alas he is lost!"

Lily held Bain close to her chest as she listened, keeping herself at the back of the crowd so none would see her. The only person she wanted besides Bard was Rose, and Rose had died in the tavern – had died saving Lily. She breathed deeply, forcing herself not to cry, forcing herself to be strong for Bain; and then the one voice she wanted to hear sounded loud over the others.

"Bard is not lost!" he cried. "He dived from Esgaroth, when the enemy was slain. I am Bard, of the line of Girion; I am the slayer of the dragon!"

She felt Bain gasp against her chest, and he stayed where he was clinging to her as the people cried; "King Bard! King Bard!"

"Girion was lord of Dale, not king of Esgaroth," Bard told them. "Let 'King Bard' go back to his own kingdom – Dale is now freed, nothing hinders his return. Any that wish can go with him, the wise will stay here and hope to rebuild our town, and enjoy again in time its peace and riches.

Lily and Bain stood still at the back, Lily holding her son so that the proclamations could finish. The town praised Bard and cursed the Master. Until the Master spoke, and then he cursed Thorin and his company. The Master was a clever man, for now the people forgot about a new king and instead cursed the dwarves.

"Fools!" cried Bard silencing them. "Why waste words and wrath on them? It is no doubt they perished first in fire, before Smaug came to us." Then even as he spoke the thought came into his heart of the treasure in the Mountain lying without guard or owner, and he fell suddenly silent. He thought of the Master's words, and of Dale rebuilt and filled with golden bells, if he could but find the men. And then of course his thoughts turned to Lily, and Bain; and of how they were lost for he had not seen them.

At length he spoke again, though his voice was much grimmer. "This is no time for angry words, Master. There is work to do, I serve you still – though after some time I may think again of your words and go North with any that will follow me."

He then strode off to help in the ordering of camps and in care of the sick and wounded. It was then Lily released her hold on Bain and he shot through the crowd like an arrow loosed from a bow.

Bard turned at the many "excuse me,"s and "pardon me,"s, recognizing the voice it belonged to. "Father!" Bain cried when he saw him.

Bard stooped and caught his boy when he flung himself at him, holding him in complete shock. "You are alive," Bard breathed, letting loose a small laugh of disbelief.

"I'm sorry," Bain said against his chest, holding his father tight. "I went to find mother."

At that Bard stood straight and searched the crowd wildly, seeing her standing near. "Gods be good you are both alive," he said as a prayer, releasing his hold on his son and pulling his wife into his arms.

She cupped his face in her hands, his forehead resting on hers, finally allowing herself to cry. "As are you."

Bard himself was fighting tears, never having imagined they would face a dragon and all his family live. He smiled, a large true smile, and he kissed her. That sight, of a man – now king of Dale – joyfully reuniting with his wife and son would be the reason many of the people followed him to Dale.

As it was Bard held his wife in one arm and his son in the other, rejoicing in their being alive. He placed a kiss on Lily's head, where a piece of wood had struck her. Thinking only one thing; they were alive.


	32. numb to the bone and I wanna come out

Lily and Bard reluctantly separated, him going off to help in the ordering of camps and her to help care for the sick and wounded. She saw to a great many burns, some too awful for the person to be saved. There were many people who had been hurt as she had, knocked over the head or other parts of their body. One little boy had been trapped under a beam, it had fallen on his back and she didn't think he'd ever walk again. Most of the people were simply sick with a cold, standing in the frigid air sopping wet.

Only a few shelters could be made, the Master of course had one, but many of the people grew ill during the cold night and Lily found them dead on the morn. Lily herself might too have been one among the dead, as may have Bain, but they both sat near a fire as they dressed wounds – using the flames for light rather than heat. There was not much to cover the sick with, and so they would not get better over the few days. Food was scarce as well; even the Master went short.

When dawn came Bard made his way to the sick to find his wife. "You are freezing," he said pulling her into his arms. He had his coat wrapped around her shoulders, and her hands were against his chest as she sought out his heat.

"People are dying," she whispered against his chest. "They are too cold and I have nothing warm them with."

He kept his arms around her, feeling her start to warm against him. He stood in a momentary peace, he did not have to think of what to do next or of how to save his people – he only had to hold his wife, and there was nothing he loved to do more.

"I had a thought," she said softly, so softly he asked her to repeat it. He could see from her eyes it troubled her greatly. "Maybe we could take some of the coats from those who have died, and cover the sick with them. I know it's a horrid idea."

"No," he said hushing her, holding a hand under her chin to make her look at him. "People are dying, you do what you must. Find a coat for yourself."

She nodded before resting her head on his chest once more, wishing without hope that they could just stay like this forever. A little boy crying broke them apart, she had to tend to him for his parents had died and there was no one else to. Bard watched her go, noting her shiver and her pale skin. He knew she would take a coat from a dead man or woman and cover someone else with it, but she would not do it for herself – not when there were so many people who needed it. And so he looked to a woman and prayed for her peace as well as forgiveness before he took the coat and pulled it on his wife, ordering her to keep it for only herself.

If not for Bard many more people would have perished. But help came swiftly; for Bard at once had speedy messengers sent up the river to the Forest to ask the aid of the elvenking, who was already on his way. They arrived five days after the death of the dragon, and their welcome was great.

Bain had left his father's side and run to his mother to tell her father wanted her. Lily found Bard speaking with an elf, his long hair golden and his face handsome.

"This is my wife," Bard told the elf when he saw her. "She will take your healers to our sick."

Lily nodded relieved, thinking she had been summoned to make plans as well – she did not think she could think of a single thing anymore, her head hurt and she was exhausted. And still she was asked for more. "Of course," she said looking at the elf.

She nearly jumped when she felt two hands on her shoulders and she looked to see an elf with fiery hair wrapping her cloak around her shoulders. "Thank you," Lily said as she pulled the cloak more around her. The she elf did no more than nod before Lily turned with the healers at her heel and walked back to her place.

In truth Lily looked ill herself – her skin was white, dark circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep, and her face was growing gaunt with lack of food. "Chew on this," an elf said holding out a leaf.

Lily did not have it in her to care what it was or what it was supposed to do, so she put it in her mouth and chewed it. It was soothing, almost like tea with a cold. "Can I have another?" she asked. "For my son?"

It was not long after night fell that Bard found her and pulled her aside. "Where is Bain?" he asked first, having not seen his son at his mother's side.

"He is with Bran," Lily said with a small role of her eyes. "He is a boy, he should play and laugh with his friends not look at," she stopped and motioned at the ill.

Bard nodded placing an arm around her back. "I know," he told her gently. "I assume he is staying the night," he said and Lily nodded. "A few huts have been built, not many but enough for at least ten to sleep side by side in each. Many tents have been raised, food is being distributed. You should rest tonight."

Lily wanted to refuse, to say there was still more for her to do and that people needed her – all of that was true, but Lily was nodding off during the times she was needed. She needed to rest, but so did her husband. "Only if you will sleep by my side."

He looked down at her, seeing the small curl of the corners of her mouth that he thought he'd never see again. How could he refuse? "Alright," he said softly, pressing a kiss to her lips. "We leave for the Mountain on the morn."

She looked up at his serious face, the face she had loved for so many years. "And I will remain here and help where I can until you return."

He nodded, not wanting to leave her, but here was the safest place for her and Bard. She sighed before wrapping her arms around his waist, wishing for him to stay but knowing he could not. "Lets go to bed."

They were both exhausted, thoroughly and completely, and they fell asleep seconds after they laid down in the tent that had been given to them. If the dragon had reared back alive and bore down on them with a vicious roar and wall of flame they would not have woken, that was how deep they sleep. It was not but an hour before dawn Bard woke, and Lily herself woke to him stroking her hair. No words were spoke. They had almost lost each other, and now they were parting. There was no teasing, no pulling her dress from her shoulders and kissing his way down her body. She did not pull his shirt over his head and run her hands over his chest. He pulled her skirt up and she pulled his trousers down and then he was inside her.

His mouth never left her lips, their tongues never ceased warring; he held her hips as he moved, thrusting deeper in her. Her arms were around his shoulders, her hands tugging his hair. A strangled moan sounded in her throat as she came, drawing her legs further up his sides as he rode through it. He followed shortly after, groaning loudly against her as he pulled her hips closer and thrusted into her a last time.

They laid against each other breathing heavily, holding on as tight as they could before they would be forced to part.

"I will write to you," Bard promised her before he left. They stood outside away from the other husband and wives and mothers and sons saying goodbye.

Lily smiled and nodded, refusing to cry for she knew it would make leaving harder for both him and Bain. He kissed her soundly a last time, holding her in his arms and breathing her in before letting her go. Then he turned to his son.

"Why can I not come with you?" Bain asked looking up at him, wishing his father were treating him like a man now.

Bard placed a hand on his shoulder. "One day I will need you to fight by my side," he told Bain. "Today your mother needs you by hers, and I need you here as well. Should any trouble surface you will be here to protect her. So I need you to be a man," he told his son, watching the determination settle in Bain's eyes.

"I won't let anything happen to her," Bain swore, straightening his back and looking at his father.

Bard smiled softly. "I know you won't." With a last hug and kiss to them both, mother and son stood side by side watching as he left.


	33. I've been dead, and I wanna come out

Five days it took for the men and elves to reach Dale. Bard's first letter came the second day, tied to the foot of a small bird bearing an even smaller message. _"We are still a far way off and have much marching to do. Sleep was restless, my arms ached for you as does my spirit." _

It was not much but it brought a shadow of a smile to her lips. She had not slept particularly well, and neither had Bain. He was worried for his father and that trouble would find him, and that he himself might fail as man for he was only a boy of eleven. The family had never been apart before, at least not like this; Bain had stayed at Bran's house before, and Bard had stayed his post at night – but never had loss been so threatening as it was then. And so Bain had laid with his head on his mother's chest and she sang and hummed and held him all night. They were a weary two when dawn broke.

Her own letter was a small thing, written on a half page she'd torn from another. _"We are well. A hut has been built for us, and you when you return. Bain has taken up archery." _

There was hardly anything for her to do as the days passed. With the elves there health was returning to the people, huts were being constructed, food was being distributed. Lily spent most of her day feeding soup to those still getting better. And then when there were few ill she stood with other wives and took up making food. And then when food was not needed to be made they gathered as much material as they could and set about sewing; stitching blankets, holes in people's clothes from where fire burned them, shirts and pants for those whose clothes were too ruined to salvage.

Bard did not write everyday, nor did Lily always answer in return; words meant nothing, did nothing but make their hearts sore with the other's absence. Bain slept with his mother every night; something Bard would have been displeased with for he was eleven after all. But sometimes he felt the warmth of her tears in his hair or on his cheek, and he would pretend to be asleep and lay in her arms wondering if being away from father caused her pain.

It was not just Bard's absence that saddened her; it was much of the reason she shed tears. But there was another, a smaller one with broad shoulders and piercing blue eyes that she had loved once – that a part of her would never stop loving. She cried for Thorin, thinking him dead. He had left her to her life with Bard and her son, to her happiness, but what happiness had he left to? The answer to that is what made her cry, for she had stolen his happiness as she had his heart – and somewhere along the way she had cast them both aside for her own.

"_He is not dead. He and his company have shut themselves in the Mountain. I will try to parley with them on the morn. I pray word of you might soften his heart but I have little hope." _

His newest letter had her standing on shaking legs so that she had to sit in order to read it. She had not thought it possible Thorin would have survived the dragon, but she realized but of course he had for he was Thorin Oakenshield. It had made her smile to read he was not dead, but also to know Bard loved her enough to wish to put her heart at ease with the knowledge. However, her husband's other words caused her concern. Thorin had spoken of his grandfather's dragon sickness and of how dark it had made him and she wondered if perhaps it were possible Thorin had fallen under the same curse.

"_Tell me what he says when you ask for aide, I fear he might be sick with gold. If that should be you have no hope of receiving even a carcass from one of the dragon's feasts." _

His next letter proved her to be right, the next day after supper the bird returned with another letter of Bard recounting Thorin's refusal.

"_He did not recognize me until I told him my name, I fear his heart was hardened the moment I thad. My having been the dragon slayer did nothing for him, neither did my being the heir of Dale. Though he was pleased to hear you were alive he budged not a little. He has proclaimed us his enemy and believes we try to take what is his by force, though that may be our elvenhost he has proclaimed. I do fear you are right, he is ill with gold. And I am truly sorry to have to tell you that, I know you care for him." _

What Bard had not told his wife was the price Thorin had placed on her head. It had shocked Bard, and the bannermen, to hear the dwarf's words. "A handsome sum you would receive to keep your people should you bring Lily to me. Her place was always at my side, never yours." It would have broken her heart, so Bard had not told her.

This was a letter she did not respond to, what more could she say besides they would get nothing from Thorin. Though what worried her most was that they would make war with each other, and should that take place one of them would die. And so she said nothing.

Days passed and once more few words were shared. "_I have felt every hour since which we parted,"_ one letter said. _"We are well and wish you home_," is what she wrote in return.

Many letters included words along the line of _"Thorin still refuses,"_ or _"No progress has been made, and I fear it never will. Not while he lives and is so close to his treasure."_

To these Lily did not respond, she couldn't. Instead she set her mind to sewing or cooking or minding after Bain – anything but Thorin who was no longer Thorin, and her husband who was far away from her side.

It was almost three weeks since Bard and the men and elves had left that a letter came after noon bearing the message; _"Do you remember the hobbit that traveled with Thorin? A good kindly folk they are. He came late in the night with the very thing Thorin lusts for more than his gold – the Arkenstone. It is the most beautiful stone I have ever seen. As if every color of light was molded into it, I wish you could see it. And it proved to be great in Thorin's heart for he agreed to a fourteenth's share of the treasure. I do believe I will be returning to you soon, my love. And I pray I will never leave you again." _

This letter had made her smile for she longed for her husband's arms, his kiss, his touch – she longed for him. But a thought nagged at the back of her mind – would Thorin really give up any of his treasure? Or would he find a means, possibly war, so he would not have to? She did not know how right she was – not for two days. And Bard's next letter brought her to her knees.

"_He is dead."_

* * *

_Just as a heads up, I think I only have one or two more chapters left before this story is finished. So I will thank you now, and then, for reading and reviewing. It means a lot to me._


	34. call my name, cause I wanna come out

**_You'll remember me when the west wind moves_**

**_upon the fields of barley._**

**_You can tell the sun in his jealous sky_**

**_when we walked in fields of gold._**

* * *

_A few hours earlier_

Bard entered Thorin's tent hesitantly, not quite sure he wished to see the dying dwarf king. But Bard had been summoned, and Thorin was dying, so he went. The smell of blood was heavy in the tent, many spears had pierced his body – not even Bard was without wound, his side was stitched from where an orc had cut him.

Thorin looked at Bard with heavy lids, his chest hurting more with each breath and his body cold. "Do you have a quill and parcel?"

"As you requested," Bard answered as he sat across from where Thorin lay. "What, may I ask, is it for?"

A reddened smile broke on Thorin's face, and he wheezed slightly. "A letter to you wife," he answered, seeing the irony now that he was dying.

Bard stilled and looked at the dwarf with hard eyes making Thorin chuckle lightly, though he broke off coughing quickly after. "If I believe it will hurt her, I will not write it," Bard told him.

Thorin took a deep breath that did not fully reach his lungs and nodded. "She will be hurt no matter what you do," he told the man quietly. "You know your wife, she chose you and I am dying. Tell me you don't know that she will blame herself."

Bard couldn't, for he knew Lily would. But he did not like that Thorin knew her so well. He also knew there was a chance that Lily, who knew Thorin more than him, might find some peace with what the dwarf had to say. "What would you like me to write?" Bard asked after a few moments.

Thorin exhaled heavily, feeling weariness settle around him, and he stared at the top of the tent as he pictured her pretty face. "I love you," he said in a labored sigh, the sound of his ragged breathing startling Bard. "Did you write it?" Thorin asked impatiently turning to look at the grim faced man.

"You want me to write a letter to my wife telling her you loved her?" Bard asked incredulously.

Thorin sighed, sounding more a gurgling growl. "If I had told Lily I loved her thirteen years ago," Thorin stopped to take a breath, finding that he was struggling to get enough air, "she would have come with me to the Blue Mountains. I might not be here now, I would have," he took another breath, "had children, and her." He smiled a bitter, rueful smile. "Perhaps the gold would not have been so appealing, all the gold in the world could never measure up to her. I was a fool to ever think anything could." Thorin was breathing heavily after he finished explaining to Bard why telling Lily he loved her was so important, and he turned to Bard to see the man writing.

This is what he wrote; _"I love you. If I had only told you that thirteen years ago you would have come with me to the Blue Mountains. We would have had children. I would have had you, the gold might not have been so appealing. All the gold in the world could not compare to you and I was fool to think anything ever could." _

Bard scribbled furiously as he tried to remember what all Thorin had said, realizing that he could not make himself apart of this – he had no place between her and Thorin, only at Lily's side – and he wrote what Thorin had said, understanding that this is what would give her ease in Thorin's passing. He looked up when he'd finished to see Thorin's eyes on him, a small smile on his bloodied lips.

"Do you understand now?" Thorin asked him. "Why you have to do this?"

Bard's eyes were still hard but he nodded none the less and looked back to the paper. And this is what he wrote.

"_I know you love me, never have I doubted that."_

"I know you love me still."

"I'm not writing that," Bard said refusing, looking at Thorin who sighed grievously.

"She left her inn to wait for me in the laketown," Thorin told him. "She came because she loved me, but she stayed because she loves you more."

Bard held the quill in his hand and the paper on his lap, looking at Thorin and realizing the truth to his words. Lily loved Thorin, even now; but she loved Bard more. And Thorin willingly admitted it.

"Can I continue now?" Thorin asked seeing Bard understood. He turned away at the man's irritated eyes and took a deep, labored breath. "I know you love me still," he said starting from where he'd stopped.

"_I know you love me still, it's just you love him more. As much as I wish to be angry with you, I cannot. I have never seen you more happy than when he is near, not even with me. You told me once all you had ever wanted was a man who loved you, a farm with animals, and children. He adores you, as does your son. I could never have made you so happy." _

Bard sat back and waited as Thorin caught his breath, looking over the words to see that it made sense. Bard had chosen some of his own words, sometimes Thorin hardly made sense and sometimes he spoke too quickly for Bard to write it exactly as he'd said. He grew concerned when Thorin began coughing, a deep wet sounding cough. Bard wiped the blood from Thorin's mouth and chin and the dwarf king did no more than nod; that may have scared Bard more than anything so far.

Thorin laid back trying to catch his breath, his head beginning to pound, but nothing hurt him worse than the cold.

"Did you ever think," Thorin said before he had to catch his breath again, "that we only met so that you could," again he had to stop to breathe, "find him?" Thorin let out a weary breath, happy to have just gotten out that thought.

Bard quickly scratched that down, writing word for word what Thorin had said. Next he wrote; _"It seems so clear to me now. I was never right for you, I was not good enough. You have the kindest heart of anyone I've met. I would have ruined you." _

It had taken Thorin a long while to get that out, not only was his wheezing worsening he was also left fighting tears as he gave Lily his last words. And so Bard sat as Thorin composed himself, waiting to continue.

"_But I love you, in my own way. I never loved only part of you, I could have handled only loving part of you. Did you know that I was afraid? I loved you fully, then and now." _

Thorin wheezed loudly as he thought of how to word the end of his letter. He did not want to hurt her, as he had for the last thirteen years. He wanted her to be at peace; it was then he knew what he would say.

"_I had wanted to see you were happy, to see you were loved. He will make you happy until the end of your days. I could not have loved you more than he does, I see that now as well. I want nothing more than for you to live your life fully in love and happiness. I can be laid to rest in peace knowing that he will make sure of it."_

Thorin had stopped then not thinking he could go on anymore and he laid wheezing as he looked to Bard. "You will make sure of it," Thorin said, demanding an answer.

"Yes," Bard said softly, rolling the letter.

Thorin nodded and turned away. "You should be there when she reads it," he told Bard before he left. "She will need you to hold her."

…

Bard stood before Lily watching as she read the letter, her hand pressed to her mouth and tears leaking from her eyes. He did not reach for her, he did not wrap her in his arms though he greatly wanted to. He waited until she reached for him, he waited until she was ready. It took several long moments of standing with the letter folded in her hand pressed to her chest, wiping her cheeks as tears fell, before she was ready.

She did not cry as he had thought she would, he had expected to feel her shoulders shaking as she sobbed but she did no more than sniff softly. But she was thinking what Thorin had not said – this was the only way Thorin would have ever been free of the treasure and the sickness it had plagued him with. And so she mourned softly, wishing things had been different.

It took her months before she could smile again. Bard loved her and held her and bedded her, and she slowly found herself again. A part of her heart had been buried with Thorin, where it would always remain. But life called for her to be present; Bard gave the Master a portion of his fourteenths share to rebuild the laketown but he took the rest and rebuilt Dale. Many of the people from the laketown joined them, and within three years Dale was complete and Bard was made King and Lily his Queen. Bard was a good and generous King, a loved one. His land became bountiful, trade flowed freely with the dwarves in Erebor, and people came from miles around to settle in Dale.

Thirty-three years Bard was King of Dale, and he was mourned by his people who had loved the grim man greatly. Bain succeeded his father, a young boy who had grown to be a man as kind and loving as his mother and as much of a leader as his father. Lily looked on with love and joy as her son led them, proving to be a good and just king. She gave up her hold on life ten years later and was buried at her husband's side, where their bodies remained until the end of time.

* * *

_Guest: thank you, I'm so glad you like it. I hate that he dies, but I always kill him and it always hurts a bit. I really like what you said, he truly was sick for her. I guess you know now that he gives her a little peace, but it still hurt her. _

_So that was it, my story is over. Thank you all so much for reading and keeping with it. And to those who reviewed, they all mean so much to me. So thank you all very much._


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